


Prompt Collections (ch1-14) & Soft Hours Mini Fics (ch15 - 41)

by Misunkun



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate universe - Mafia, Angst, Blood and Violence, Boys Kissing, Doctor/Patient, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Magical Realism, Military, Phone Calls & Telephones, Presents, Romantic Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 11:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 51,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17507936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misunkun/pseuds/Misunkun
Summary: Chapters 1-14 are a collection of prompts submitted by my readers on tumblr, turned into mini-fics by me. Chapters 15 onward are soft hours posts/real-time snippet fics posted on my tumblr within a day of the events happening/show being aired/photos being shown (and archived here later).





	1. Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> 42 - “I need a hug.” 
> 
> Title: Perfect | Chanbaek | Non-AU | Rating: G | Fluff | 1k

“I need a hug.” Chanyeol throws himself face first onto the couch in the dormitory, uncaring that he’s still trailing steam from the bathroom. “One more rerun of the choreo and I’m going to trip over my own feet.”

Kyungsoo shakes his leg until Chanyeol’s foot falls off it. “They are pretty big.”

“Oi,” Chanyeol’s voice is muffled but audible. “Shut up.”

Jongdae floats past, a bowl of late night soup cupped carefully in both hands. “You could ask Jongin. He’s always up for hugs.”

Chanyeol buries in further, shaking his head.

Junmyeon doesn’t raise his eyes from the book he’s reading in the only corner with a bright enough lamp. “He’s still out with Minseok. Won’t be home until probably four.”

Chanyeol grunts. Kyungsoo unhelpfully pokes the back of his thigh. Chanyeol feebly tries to kick him but it’s too awkward an angle. Everything hurts.

“Yixing?” Kyungsoo waves in the direction of the kitchen as Yixing emerges, silky wet face mask on. “Come cuddle him.”

Chanyeol makes a grumpy sound.

Yixing gently scratches the back of Chanyeol’s head as he walks past. “Not unless you want this goop all over you. Sehun should be finished in the shower soon so he might be up for sharing his bed. And he’ll be warm.”

Chanyeol mumbles into the couch. That sounds kinda nice, but… no, it’s still not what he wants. He butts his forehead against the cushion, overtired.

“Hold on,” Kyungsoo mutters, levering himself off the couch.

Chanyeol immediately brings his legs back up and takes up the whole space. He knows he’s being petulant but he’s tired and sore and strangely needy tonight. Even the shower had stung, burning his overtaxed muscles. But if there’s one thing Chanyeol has been determined to improve it’s his dancing. He knows he’ll do it. He’s made so much progress. Sometimes though, it takes a lot out of him to get his body to move as fluidly as everyone else. Nights like tonight.

There’s the sound of footsteps disappearing up the hallway, reappearing and then Kyungsoo calls from above Chanyeol’s buried head. “Get up.”

Chanyeol shakes his head.

“Get up or I’ll pinch you so hard you won’t  _be_  going to choreo tomorrow.”

Chanyeol raises his head. “I’m up, I’m up.”

Kyungsoo smirks and grabs Chanyeol’s wrist once he’s vertical, dragging him into the hall. Bedrooms all flash past until Kyungsoo opens one door at the end and shoves Chanyeol through.

“Please hug him. Apparently it’s you he wants.”

Chanyeol blinks. Baekhyun looks up from his desk, sliding his headphones off.

Chanyeol hovers in the doorway until Kyungsoo closes it behind him, forcing him to step forward a foot. He runs a hand through his hair, a big bundle of pent up, restless weariness. Had he really been that obvious?

Baekhyun smiles. He stands up from the little chair and crosses the small space, arms open. He doesn’t hesitate when he reaches Chanyeol and wraps up as much of him as he can reach.

Chanyeol folds himself over Baekhyun, burying his face in his neck and feeling far too big, far too awkward and so, so tired. Baekhyun just holds him as long as he needs, faintly swaying on the balls of his feet until Chanyeol squeezes tight and reluctantly lets go.

When he straightens up Baekhyun looks fond.  _He’s in pyjamas too_ , Chanyeol realises. His hair is faintly damp at the ends. It’s so cute.

“You were practicing late again?”

Chanyeol nods, yawning. “I need to.”

“Not as much as you think, you know.” Baekhyun’s voice is warm. “You’ve got everything nailed down. You’re going to be amazing.”

“I just…” Chanyeol shrugs, self-conscious. “Want to be better.”

Baekhyun smiles, his eyes soft. “You already  _are._  Everyone will love you.”

Maybe it’s the exhaustion coursing through his veins like a drug but Chanyeol summons just enough energy for a cocky grin. “As much as you do?”

Baekhyun laughs, backing up towards the desk. He bites his lip like he’s considering that and wiggles a finger at Chanyeol. “I don’t think they’re allowed to love you  _that_  much. I like being on top spot.”

Chanyeol’s heart does a small flip, the same as it always does whenever Baekhyun nonchalantly flirts back like that. This is all so new, this secret that’s not really a secret between them. It makes them electric, makes them reckless and Chanyeol knows something addictive when he sees it. It’s a bright, dangerous path they’re tiptoeing around, as casual as they both pretend to be about it.

Touches that last too long, coy footsies under the table at breakfast, double-entendres that make everyone groan and pelt them with food. When the wick finally runs out on this slow-burn of a candle and they take that last step and one of them makes a real move… it’s either going to be the best thing that’s ever happened or it’s going to burn them alive. Somewhere along the line they both unspokenly decided it was worth the risk.

Baekhyun logs off his game, turns off the multiple screens he has attached to his computer setup and motions to his bed. “Wanna share tonight?”

Chanyeol smiles. “Please?”

Baekhyun does the rounds and turns off the lights. When he’s done Chanyeol is waiting for him under the covers. He holds out a hand and Baekhyun takes it as he gets into the bed.

“Can I… have another hug?”

Baekhyun settles down, dwarfed by the thick blankets that he draws up over them. Their feet brush under the covers as he settles down to face Chanyeol on the pillows. Their hands are still entwined. “You can have anything you want,” he whispers.

Chanyeol gathers him into his arms and holds on tight. Baekhyun hooks a leg over his thigh and snuggles down. Maybe tomorrow Chanyeol will have the courage to tell him what else he wants. Perhaps even ask for a kiss. Or maybe Baekhyun will be the one to do it. But for now, they have this. And it’s still perfect.

* * *


	2. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 113 - “Where did all these puppies come from?”
> 
> Title: Nine |Chanbaek | domestic AU | Rating: G | fluff | 1.1k

Baekhyun lets himself into the loft apartment and closes the door quietly behind himself, glancing around. The well-worn black and red guitar case leaning against the wall reveals that Chanyeol is already home. 

Baekhyun smiles and places the backpack he’d been carrying on the floor by the door mat. Several pencils tumble out and he scoops them up, replacing them into the overflowing side pockets. If he doesn’t have to see another architectural schematic again it’ll be too soon. Thank god it’s the weekend.

There’s a neat little step that separates the entranceway from the hall and Baekhyun drops into it, untying his shoes. He places the first beside himself. “Hey, I’m home!”

“Uh, hi!” Chanyeol’s voice floats in from the living room, slightly breathless. “How… how was your day?”

Huh. Odd. “They’re bumping the deadline up for the office rework on Broadwalk.” Baekhyun calls back, wrestling and finally getting the knot undone on his second shoe. “I’ll probably have to work late on Monday and Tuesday to get the team organized-” Baekhyun pauses, shoe held in one hand. The twin is gone.

Baekhyun twists and looks back down the hallway. At the corner of the nearest bedroom door the last tip of his runaway shoe is visible for a moment before being dragged out of sight. Baekhyun frowns. “Chanyeol…”

“Yeah?” There’s a faint bang. “So um, Wednesday deadline right? I can work dinner around that.”

Baekhyun places his second shoe down and stands slowly. As he does a white cotton ball skitters down the hallway from the direction of the lounge, tiny paws slipping on the linoleum and sending it sliding the last half a meter into Baekhyun’s other shoe. It immediately latches on and starts to chew happily.

Baekhyun stares at it for a moment. Then very slowly he bends down and picks the walking cloud up, detaching it from his shoe. It fits into the palm of one hand. What. The. Heck.

He crosses to the bedroom and is just in time to see his first shoe being yanked under the bed. Baekhyun purses his lips, crouches down and reaches around under the frame with his spare hand.

It takes about two sweeps and when he finally lands a grip his shoe is twice as heavy to drag out, mostly because it now has a little grey puffball half-squeezed into it. Baekhyun extracts the second disaster on legs and stands back up, one puppy in each hand now. He makes for the living room.

“Chanyeol-” Baekhyun pulls up short. The living room is a disaster. Pillows and blankets are everywhere, couch cushions are upended, there’s a tipped-over water bowl in one corner and an entire box of what was once tissues are now shredded pieces of tiny confetti across every surface. In the middle of it all Chanyeol bounds over to him, a relieved look on his face and three more tiny puppies balanced along the length of one crooked forearm.

“Oh thank god, you found Six and Nine. They’re the fastest.”

Baekhyun blinks as Chanyeol scoops up the puppies he’s holding and tries to pour the whole lot into a square fort of cushions he’s made. There’s already three other happy, squirming bodies inside.

“There’s nine? Wait- where did all these puppies come from?”

“I can explain. I can. Where-” Chanyeol counts silently with a finger and then looks around, diving for a corner of moving curtain. “C’mere Two. We had this discussion. Fabrics are not for chewing on.” He drops the next puppy into the fort before turning sheepishly back to Baekhyun, sidling up closer and gripping the hem of Baekhyun’s dress shirt. “So I was busking today and there was this box of puppies. Someone had just dumped them.” Chanyeol’s voice speeds up. “And people were just passing it by and it was so cold and I couldn’t just leave them there so I carried them home with me…”

Oh god, Chanyeol and his gigantic heart. Baekhyun inhales slowly. Chanyeol looks so overwhelmed. And exhausted. He takes Baekhyun’s hand.

“You’re not going to be mad, right?”

Unable to help it Baekhyun laughs, shaking his head. “No I’m not mad. Just really, really startled.” He looks down at the impromptu-cage. Then he frowns. “Did you say there were nine?”

“Yeah?”

“I count eight.”

Chanyeol scans the box. “Shit.” He sounds resigned. “Five is missing.”

“You named them?” Baekhyun shakes his head, peering around the room from where he’s standing. “Biggest mistake. You know we have to take them to a good shelter to get homed properly right?”

Chanyeol looks crestfallen. Baekhyun closes the distance and slides his hands around Chanyeol’s waist, hugging gently. His voice is soft.

“We can’t feed nine dogs, Yeollie. Don’t get too attached.”

Chanyeol sighs. “I know. And I didn’t give them real names. Just numbers.” He scrunches up one side of his mouth in the adorable way he does when thinking something through. “But I couldn’t just leave them. The box was mouldy.”

Baekhyun sighs fondly. Trust his kind-hearted boyfriend to have found the biggest litter of abandoned miniature poodle puppies in town. “You did well.” He stretches up and ruffles Chanyeol’s hair. “Now let’s find the last one. What color is he?”

“Black.” Chanyeol looks pleased again. “He’s the smallest.”

It takes them the better part of an hour but Chanyeol eventually returns with Five balancing happily on one broad shoulder. Baekhyun then calls the nearest animal rescue and books a time to bring the puppies in while Chanyeol plays with a spare sock that he’s dangling into the puppy pile. Five falls asleep on his shoulder.

It’s Baekhyun who unanimously decides that they need to get food for their tiny horde since they have absolutely nothing in the loft that puppies can safely eat. He splits a deal with Chanyeol that he’ll return with puppy milk, kibble and pizza for them both if Chanyeol cleans up the living room. Baekhyun just needs a shower first. It’s been… a long day.

When he returns with the shopping later that evening, the disaster area of a room has been hastily tidied, everything is back in it’s place and Chanyeol, tiny puppy hairs and bits of tissue stuck all over his ripped jeans and grey hoodie has passed out on the couch. The puppies are finally worn out too and are all snoozing in their fort.

Except for one. Baekhyun crosses to the couch and looks down. The smallest black little pup is cradled on Chanyeol’s chest just under his chin, snoring adorably.

Well, Baekhyun rationalizes. Maybe they can keep one puppy.

* * *


	3. Dungeons and Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 130 – “This was fun – let’s do it again sometime!”
> 
> Title: Dungeons and Dragons | Seho | Magical heist AU | Rating: G | Action | 2.4k

The ceiling is the first thing to register cracks. Junmyeon tugs on Sehun’s jacket, trying to get his attention. The piles of gold coins under their feet slowly start to rattle. “We need to move. C’mon.”

“Just another minute.” Sehun shoves aside a huge ornate shield and hauls open a chest sitting behind. “It might be in here.”

One of the heavy columns to one side splinters in a spiderweb of cracks. Nearby the stone stairway starts to creak and Junmyeon knows if  _that_  breaks they’re trapped in this godforsaken dungeon. “We don’t  _have_  another minute. If you can’t find the Eye get up and let’s go.”

The crack in the vaulted stone ceiling snaps along in several jagged bursts, raining dust down on both of them. Sehun scrabbles about in the piles of gold coins. “We didn’t come all this way for nothing. The map says it’s here. And it’s worth enough to set us all up for  _life._ ”

“Not if we’re dead.” Junmyeon grabs the back of Sehun’s jacket and hauls the larger man to his feet. “Move!”

A whole section of gems and coins along the east wall slides apart like a river. Junmyeon shoves Sehun into a run towards the staircase and scoops up the shield, following. Sehun yanks the short-wave radio from his belt and hits the broadcast button. “Delta Two pulling back. We tripped a wire.”

“You sure did.” Yixing’s voice reverberates through as Sehun reaches the huge steps, far too large for normal human legs and starts to climb. “We’re reading one big heat signature below you. It’s woken up.”

Junmyeon snatches the radio so Sehun has both hands to climb. “Yeah we gathered that.”  A low rumble has started, echoing off the walls of the dungeon like thunder. “Is there enough left of the castle above us to drop it on it’s head?”

The coins behind them bulge upwards and keep sliding; an ominous golden waterfall. Small sacks of jewels and long swords clatter away, chests spill their priceless contents. Junmyeon slings the shield over his back and scrambles up the huge steps. He chances a look back over his shoulder.

A singular, huge orange eye looks back, blinking from under the treasure. The radio squawks.

“Affirmative. We’ve placed all the charges. Just get your butts out first. Do you have the Eye of Shareth?”

“Negative.” Junmyeon replies, forcing himself to look away and to climb the stone steps one at a time. Those who stare too long at dragons are soon eaten. “We couldn’t locate it.”

Yixing makes a frustrated sound and then the radio goes quiet. Which only allows them to hear the heavy snorting exhales of a creature breaking its hibernation. Junmyeon stows the radio onto his own belt and looks up. Only six more steps.

The rumble turns into a roar and the very foundations shake around them. Two huge chunks crumble from the ancient ceiling directly above. Sehun yells for Junmyeon and throws himself back down onto his step, barrelling into the other man and bodily rolling them both out of the way as the stone crashes down, shattering where they had been standing.

Junmyeon comes to a halt on his back, panting, Sehun poised above him grinning like an idiot. Junmyeon draws in a breath full of dust and broken spiderwebs, making him cough. “You’re crazy.”

Sehun’s grin widens. “Yeah, but your kind of crazy.”

A massive set of claws slams onto the steps above them with a deafening echo of bone on masonry. Sehun jerks back and gets to his feet, hauling Junmyeon up beside him. The claws gouge a huge chunk off the steps as they contract and grab hold. Junmyeon’s heartbeat triples. “Quick.”

Sehun begins the climb again, Junmyeon beside him. A set of gigantic horns rises in the open air beside them, followed by crescent, black scales. And finally the dragon’s face rears into view, ancient and undisturbed… until tonight.

“Oh, it’s pissed.” Sehun wheezes, finally reaching the doorway above that leads into the castle’s underbelly. He reaches back for Junmyeon and helps him up that final step. Just as the dragon locks on and pulls it’s head back, opening it’s jaws. “Shit!”

Junmyeon pushes Sehun through the dusty doorway and shouts at him to run. “It’ll take a couple of goes to get it’s glands working again after so long! Move!”

A small fireball careens into the tiny space, billowing out and eating the oxygen. Junmyeon can feel the heat of it against his back. But it’s only a baby breath. Once it warms up it’s chemical glands it’ll fill the whole hallway and burn them alive.

Ahead Sehun reaches the cell door that had let them into this section of the castle hours before. It had been open when they came through, rusted in place. Only now it’s closed. Sehun slams his shoulder into it but the heavy metal doesn’t budge.

Behind them they dragon starts to claw at the entrance to the passageway, ripping off slabs of the stonework. It roars, sending echoes through the small space that threaten to blow their eardrums. Junmyeon lands beside Sehun and grabs the bars, shaking them frantically. “It was open when we came down, what the fuck?”

Sehun looks back the way they came. Snarling, a singular left eye peers down the length of the passage through the torn-open gap, judging their position. “It must have swung shut by itself when everything started moving.” His voice takes on an edge of panic. “This was the only way up!”

The eye withdraws. Junmyeon knows what that means. Sehun looks around hurriedly, trying to find something,  _anything_  that could get them out of here. But with the gate closed it’s a dead end. Emphasis on the dead. He spins back to Junmyeon, eyes hollow.

“I’m sorry.”

“No it’s okay.” Junmyeon hauls him closer by a jacket sleeve. He cups the back of Sehun’s head, tipping him down into a hug, turning them both slightly so Sehun isn’t facing down the passage where the fire is going to come pouring down. He can hear the dragon inhale. “It’s okay. Do you trust me?” 

Sehun who had been clinging on, suddenly goes tense. “You’re about to do something incredibly stupid aren’t you?”

Junmyeon smiles. “Maybe.”

“And here I was, about to have a soft, final dramatic moment before we burn alive and you-” Sehun is cut off as Junmyeon pushes him away with enough force that he stumbles back, falling over against the wall. Junmyeon dives after him and bundles him into the furthest corner, crouching down in front of him and making themselves as small as possible. The air recedes out of the passageway like a slow tide being drawn back.

Junmyeon quickly pulls the huge shield off his back and hooks it over one arm. “If this doesn’t work then here’s your moment. Close your eyes.” He hunches down and holds the shield close, blockading them both in behind it’s span. After all it’s time in the lair the shield shows no sign of decay or fire damage. Junmyeon hopes with everything he has that it’s properly enchanted, even if it’s previous owner had been eaten. Sehun locks eyes with him as the roar of fire sweeps closer and then obediently closes them. Junmyeon tucks close. Their noses are almost touching. “Hold your breath.”

Sehun, unseeing, reaches out and draws Junmyeon’s head that last few inches. He seals their mouths together as the dragon’s fire roars into the passageway, spiralling into huge, impossible tongues of heat that eat everything they touch. Sehun shakes against him, nails dug into Junmyeon’s neck. The temperature around them reaches boiling point and then blows way past that. The very stone blisters. Junmyeon feels like his own skin is being flayed off but he holds fast, bracing the shield over them until the oxygen is expended and the dragon finishes it’s deadly exhale. The fire dies.

Junmyeon pulls his mouth away, feeling their dry lips part. Sehun inhales like a gasping fish and Junmyeon does the same, trying to drag in what little air there is left as the outside world tries to equalise it again. In front of him Sehun blinks his eyes open. They’re both covered in ash. Junmyeon raises his head and feels cascades of it rain down his back. But praise everything, the shield held. Junmyeon feels his chest start to un-cramp as he remembers to breathe.

Sehun coughs. “How did you know the enchantments were correct on that?”

Junmyeon unfolds and stands. “I didn’t. It was a guess.”

“What?” Sehun immediately stands and grabs his arm, sending a cloud of ash flying. “I can’t believ- you mean you just  _hoped_  it’d work?”

Junmyeon shrugs. “Yeah. Kind of.” He points behind Sehun. “But it did work.”

Sehun spins around. Behind him the smouldering remains of what had once been the cell gate leave the passage open. His voice is awed. “I think I love you.”

Junmyeon grins and grabs hold of his wrist. “C’mon. Let’s get back to the others before-” At the other end hundreds of tons of scale and muscle throws itself against the wall of the corridor, bursting it open. The dragon reaches a massive forepaw inside. “-he realises we’re still alive.”

Junmyeon drops the shield and squeezes through the burned gap, pulling Sehun along with him. A huge claw curves in, scooping air where they had been moments before. Both men follow the passage and emerge into the broken remains of what was once an armoury, huge slabs of wall broken away. Overhead through the shattered ceiling beams, swaths of stars race past as they run and Junmyeon can see the spotlight from their helicopter piercing the gloom. He grabs the radio again. “Echo One we’re approaching your position. And we’re bringing company.”

Yixing sounds relieved. “We were wondering if you two were okay.”

“A little singed.” Junmyeon dodges a mound of rusted axes. “But alive.” The cavern below buckles, rippling in pulses as the dragon thrashes, trying to claw its way out. Gusts of wind spill out, pushed by it’s wingspan unfolding in the cramped space. If it can get momentum it’ll burst through. Junmyeon drags Sehun out of the armoury and into a derelict main hall.

“We’re coming out the front way. Bring the helicopter around to this side!”

“Have them prep the flares-” Sehun skids to a stop as they pass a battered old throne. Junmyeon immediately pulls on his wrist.

“What are you doing?”

Sehun’s eyes go wide. “They mounted the stupid thing.”

“What?” A section of flooring crumbles, dragging a long length of stained old carpet inside and Junmyeon doesn’t have time to admire ancient furniture.

Sehun breaks his hold and clambers up onto the throne, knocking away cobwebs and half a bent tapestry. “They mounted it! Look!” He motions for Junmyeon. “Give me your knife!”

Heaving, hot breaths are puffing up from below the cracked floor. Junmyeon pulls his penknife from his pocket and tosses it to Sehun who grabs the tool and starts using it to pry away at- Junmyeon blinks. The Eye is set into the head of the throne, ruby facets dulled over the centuries but unmistakable in size. Of all the places to keep a priceless jewel…

Sehun works around the setting quickly and catches the gem against his chest as it pops free. It’s bigger than his fist. Junmyeon tugs him back down. “Fabulous! Now let’s-”

The whole centre floor gives way. The dragon squeezes it’s enormous head out and whips around, jaws snapping at the throne. Junmyeon catches Sehun as he trips over the tapestry, pushing him ahead. He opens the channel on the radio again. “Yixing! It’s breaking out.”

“Are you nearly outside?”

The grand doors are ahead, one tipped over and shattered in half both with age and having a several hundred ton roommate rattling the foundations for the last few centuries. They can squeeze through. Sehun takes the gap at a run, dropping and skidding through under the overhang just as Junmyeon reaches it. He looks back. “Yes. Light it up.”

The first flares shoot across the open ceiling and into the hall, illuminating everything with a white hot light. The dragon screams and thrashes, eyes still used to hibernation sleep blinded momentarily and Junmyeon ducks under the broken door. He sprints across the drawbridge that rests over a long-empty moat and sees that Sehun has already reached the helicopter. The rest of their little team of bounty hunters are all on board and the blades are still in motion.

Sehun leans out the side and holds out a hand as Junmyeon approaches. He snags it and jumps aboard, siding the door closed moments before the machine takes off and curves around the top of the castle. Junmyeon hits his seat and straps himself in. “Are the charges armed?”

Yixing holds up a detonator. Standard operating procedure for any retrieval mission should something go wrong, but they rarely have to use it. Tonight isn’t one of those nights. Junmyeon grabs it and flicks the switch. Below them the dynamite that the others have rigged into the foundations detonates.

The base of the ancient castle explodes, recessing and crumbling the rest of it inwards like a collapsing skyscraper. Hundreds of years worth of stone fractures in an instant and rains down with the force of a small bomb as they circle back around the smoking crater a safe distance.

Junmyeon sinks back against his headrest, looking out the window as the dust falls. There’s faint movement below as the dragon, wounded and stunned, struggles to move under the weight of all the stone. “Go back to sleep.” Junmyeon tells it quietly. “Wait for your next visitors.”

There’s a very disgruntled rumble as the dragon slowly sinks and returns to it’s subterranean lair. It’ll hibernate again to heal and hopefully no one else will come knocking any time soon. Beside Junmyeon, Sehun lobs the Eye of Shareth to Yixing. “You’re all welcome.”

Yixing catches the priceless stone. “You found it?”

“Consider all our wages paid for the next decade.” Sehun stretches out a hand and pats Junmyeon’s thigh. “This was fun – let’s do it again sometime.”

Junmyeon grabs that hand and Sehun flinches, probably expecting a whack across the back of the head. But Junmyeon threads their fingers together and leans his head black, closing his eyes. He smiles. “Maybe.”

The helicopter soars off into the midnight air.

* * *


	4. Secrets and Stilettos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 169 - “What a pretty sight.”
> 
> Title: Secrets and stilettos | Chanbaek | mafia AU |Rating: R18+ | smut | 2.8k

Baekhyun takes a deep breath and feels the corset pinch faintly, pressing like a reminder into his ribcage. It’s a deep, dark red like spilled wine and sits just under his pectorals, pushing the faint muscle into definition. His exposed nipples are peaked, his skin flooded with goosebumps.

The tiny white and red lace panties he’s been adorned with do almost nothing to cover his ass and make him feel just as naked as if he had nothing on. The several inch stiletto heels topped with red ribbons around his ankles complete the look, elongating his slender legs beautifully. He looks stunning but Baekhyun is going to kill whoever high up decided that undercover meant uncovered as all hell. At least the earpiece is discreet.

Baekhyun circles the other hired prostitutes and cocaine-strewn tables inside the massive penthouse on his wobbly heels, party music turned up loud enough that the local cops had to have been paid off to not bother anyone. No way would they ignore this otherwise. Not with all the open windows letting the sound poor out into the evening air. Or was it morning hours already? Baekhyun doesn’t know. All he knows is he wants to get out of these shoes and throw a coat on. But the mark hasn’t shown his face yet and until the party ends, Baekhyun is stuck. He needs air.

The earpiece crackles as he walks out onto the balcony and veers away from the nearby pool filled to the brim with people intoxicated enough that they’re probably a genuine drowning risk. But Baekhyun isn’t here for them and he’ll blow his cover if he does anything so he ignores the sounds of sex and splashing and walks around the corner.

Aren’t you cold?

“Shut the fuck up Sehun.” Baekhyun breathes, smiling at a couple who motion for him as he passes, both half naked and apparently wanting a third. Baekhyun shimmies around them, walking until he reaches the south side of the complex. Thank god the balcony wraps all the way around. The building acts as a wind break on this side too and Baekhyun is more than a little relived to find its deserted.

His handler snorts from where he’s comfy and warm in his nice, unmarked surveillance truck. You know there’s no one actually on this side of the building. You need to get back.

Baekhyun leans back against the wall between two huge windows. “Give me a moment. I just needed a breather. It’s an orgy in there and the mark hasn’t shown his face yet.”

Sehun hums. I relayed the last update to headquarters. Superintendent says give it another hour and then we call it.

“Thank god.” Baekhyun slumps his head against the brickwork and stares up at the stars. “I’m done looking like a two dollar hooker.”

Don’t make me ask where you had to carry your badge.

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Next operation you’re the one wearing the heels.”

You look amazing. Now go back inside and finish up. At least they have heating in there.

Baekhyun nods even though Sehun can’t see it. “Copy that.” He turns. “I-”

He’s not as alone as he thought. The low light from inside the windows shows the whole south-side room like it’s a stage. And Baekhyun never looked inside as he walked past because this isn’t the section of the penthouse housing the party. This is a sectioned-off games room, filled with mahogany snooker tables and dart boards tipped with diamonds. It’s disgustingly decadent.

And it contains one devastatingly familiar man, leaning casually against one of the marble pillars inside. Park Chanyeol. Heir to the largest amassment of cartel drug money in the city. Firstborn son to the mark Baekhyun has been waiting for all night. And who is currently looking at Baekhyun with a slow smile on his stupidly handsome face. 

Baekhyun goes still. The windows are open just like on every other side of the complex. That means Chanyeol heard everything. Oh. Shit.

Chanyeol pushes off the pillar and saunters across to the huge open window. He steps through and Baekhyun backs up, cornered. Chanyeol’s eyes slide up and down Baekhyun’s figure, lingering on each flashy detail. He reaches out a hand and slides one finger along the top of Baekhyun’s corset, knuckle just brushing the base of Baekhyun’s nipples as he trails along the leather.

“What a pretty sight. And what an interesting tidbit to hear.”

Baekhyun’s earpiece flickers to life again, Sehun’s voice rapid-fire. Baekhyun? Who is that? I don’t have a match on our voice recognition software. Baek-

Chanyeol lifts his hand towards Baekhyun’s ear. “And you’re wired.”

Baekhyun slaps Chanyeol’s hand away. Then he reaches up and yanks the miniature flesh-colored chip from inside his own ear, flinging it over the edge of the balcony. Chanyeol watches it sail off and then turns back. His hands grip Baekhyun’s forearms and Baekhyun has to remember to breathe. His words are panicked and angry.

“You weren’t supposed to be here! You knew the sting was tonight.”

Chanyeol leans down, resting his forehead against Baekhyun’s, trying to soothe him. “I know. I know. That’s why I’m here. I told my father about the raid. He’s six states away by now.”

Baekhyun rears back. “What? Why? You knew this was the best chance we had to connect him to those deals. There’s equipment and narcotics all over this place. If he’d shown we could have built a case! We could-”

“We couldn’t have done anything, you and I both know that.” Chanyeol looks stricken. He sets his shoulders and cups Baekhyun’s cheek. “If he thought you had anything concrete that his team of lawyers couldn’t wiggle out of he’d be sure to be out of the county before you could prosecute.”

“So what? You decide to be here instead? That’s crazy stupid. You know what they’re going to ask me to do.” Baekhyun turns and closes his eyes, resting his lips against Chanyeol’s palm. “You’re such an idiot.” He mutters helplessly. “You didn’t attend the main party but they’re going to have me arrest you when they get up here just for being this close to all that gear. Everyone here tonight is fair game. You have maybe six minutes before my team reaches the roof. They’ll have mobilized once I cut comms.”

Chanyeol checks his watch. “Which is now about three minutes.”

Baekhyun can feel his heartbeat speed up. “So what do you want to do? You’ve fucked this whole sting up so you better have a damn good plan.”

“I have the best plan.” Chanyeol’s expression is earnest. The only real thing to Baekhyun in a world of blood and drugs and money set alight. “I can guarantee you my father. But not like this. I know more than anyone else in the business about his plans, his finances and his dealings. It has to come from me. I need to testify in court to give you an airtight case but I want a plea bargain for doing so.”

Baekhyun can hear breaking glass and startled screams from the other aide of the building. He squints up at Chanyeol in the semi-dark. “What would be your demand?”

“My freedom. Your exoneration of any wrong-doing in this whole matter by knowing me and not telling any of your team. And the ability for me to walk beside you in broad daylight.” Chanyeol draws Baekhyun to him and kisses him gently. “I’m tired of hiding. Of putting every threat six feet under to make sure no one finds out about us. I want to wake up beside you and not worry that in a few hours you’re going to kick over the wrong hornets nest on this investigation and get yourself hurt.” Chanyeol nuzzles the side of Baekhyun’s face. “Or worse, killed. Please. Arrest me and start the proceedings. I promise it’ll all be okay. I have what the prosecutor needs. They won’t refuse this.”

Baekhyun swallows around the lump in his throat, shaking his head in tiny bursts. “I don’t want to.”

Chanyeol presses a kiss to Baekhyun’s forehead. “It’s time to do this. We shouldn’t hide any more. Plus,” he draws back and tries for a smile. “I can say I was arrested by the hottest undercover officer in the city.”

Baekhyun sniffs and huffs a laugh despite himself. “You’re such a romantic.”

“I will be.” Chanyeol holds out his wrists and steps back. “Once the proceedings are over. I’ll tell them everything. And then we’re both free.”

Heavy boots pound up the other arm of the balcony and Baekhyun takes a deep breath. The squad pours around the corner, armed to the teeth and yelling. Baekhyun mouths ‘I love you’ before he turns to the half a dozen men and shouts for them to lower their weapons.

Chanyeol draws himself up to his full height and stands docilely as they’re approached, hands carefully visible. Baekhyun keeps relaying the command until they’re surrounded.

Sehun tugs the balaclava off his face once he’s close enough. “Are you okay? What happened? Who the hell is this?”

Baekhyun places a hand on the other agent’s fortified chest. “Sehun, this is Chanyeol. Mr Park’s son.”

Sehun’s eyes widen. “Park senior doesn’t have a son.”

Chanyeol smiles serenely. “Yes he does. Born overseas to his first mistress. You won’t have any records of me here but I can get them for you from an embassy.”

Sehun looks caught halfway between incredulous and amazed. Chanyeol continues as if he hadn’t just had six high powered weapons pointed at his chest.

“I entered the country under my mother’s maiden name five years ago.” He shrugs. “Happy to do a DNA test if needed.”

Sehun rounds on Baekhyun, handing him both a long coat and an incredulous look. “And you knew about this?”

Baekhyun covers up gratefully, shrugging into the heavy material. “Uh. Yeah…”

“You didn’t think this would be important information to fucking share-” Sehun’s radio squawks and he turns into it, taking what sounds like a communication from a very angry superintendent. Baekhyun takes the moment and tells the team he’ll take Chanyeol to the station in his own car. He can fill Sehun in on that very long story later.

The penthouse looks like a bomb has hit it in the harsh light of two dozen agents crawling over it, preserving portions of the huge room carefully for the crime scene techs who would arrive soon. Baekhyun steers Chanyeol through the throng and over to the elevator, a hand on the small of his back. Thankfully the small box is empty. Baekhyun keys in the lobby.

Once they’re inside and silently dropping floors fast, Chanyeol flings out a hand and hits the emergency stop button. The whole box abruptly shudders and screeches to a stop. Baekhyun braces himself against the wall and looks to Chanyeol. “What’re you doing?”

Chanyeol’s forearm hits the gilded sheet metal beside Baekhyun’s head. He crowds close, free hand fumbling with the sash tie on Baekhyun’s long coat. “What I wanted to do the moment I saw you dressed up like this.” He groans. “But we had to talk shop first.”

Baekhyun laughs. “You’re about to be arrested and you’re horny.”

“Don’t pretend it doesn’t get you hot too.” Chanyeol breathes, nuzzling into Baekhyun’s neck. “The danger. The thrill of getting caught. Fuck, you’ve cleaned blood off my hands and then sucked me off more times than I can count.”

Baekhyun fists both hands into Chanyeol’s hair and yanks his head up. He bites at Chanyeol’s lips. “You’re the worst influence, Park Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol grins against his mouth, kissing him sloppily, hungrily as he finally gets the coat out of the way. His hands are trembling faintly with the adrenaline and that kicks Baekhyun’s heart each time because Chanyeol never shakes when he has to squeeze a trigger.

The silky slip of underwear is easily torn, left to slide down Baekhyun’s legs and pool around one elegant stiletto. They don’t have much time, maybe a matter of minutes and Baekhyun can pretend all he likes but fuck he wants this just as much. He always does. He’s hard and as Chanyeol unzips and shoves aside his nearly tailored dress pants to take himself out and palm them both, Baekhyun is desperate. He winds around Chanyeol, both arms and a bare leg as Chanyeol shoves him back into the steel of the elevator wall.

The metal is ice cold and Chanyeol’s weight pins him. Grabbing Baekhyun’s thigh, Chanyeol hoists him up and Baekhyun groans because this position would be fucking perfect if they had lube. Chanyeol’s big hand is wrapped around both their cocks and Baekhyun can’t keep quiet, little ah-ah-ah sounds that he tries to muffle against Chanyeol’s mouth, licking at him. It’s fast and dirty and Chanyeol always makes Baekhyun this crazy, every time, ever since that first night a year ago when Chanyeol had saved him from an ambush at a derelict warehouse Baekhyun had gone to stake out. They’d fucked over the hood of Baekhyun’s unmarked squad car that night.

Chanyeol is pushing against Baekhyun like he wants to climb inside his skin, panting against his mouth between sloppy kisses. His hand feels so goddamn good. Pleasure pools low in Baekhyun’s stomach. Oh god. It won’t be long before someone kicks in the restart on the elevator so Baekhyun uses his grip on Chanyeol’s hair to yank his head back. “Between my legs. C’mon.”

Chanyeol groans, letting Baekhyun go so he can turn around in the small space. Chanyeol then moves in close and slots in behind him. The stilettos give Baekhyun the extra few inches they need to make this work where as normally they would be too mismatched. Chanyeol dips his knees just slightly and slides his cock between the tops of Baekhyun’s thighs, just below his balls. He thrusts against the tight grip Baekhyun creates by squeezing his legs together and reaches around, fisting Baekhyun’s own cock. Fuckyes.

Baekhyun arches and half twists, feeling decadent, reaching back for Chanyeol as he keeps his balance and Chanyeol runs his free hand up the beautiful corset. He tugs at Baekhyun’s nipples, rough and hard in the way that he knows goes straight to Baekhyun’s dick, making him jerk his hips. Chanyeol drops wet kisses wherever he can reach; Baekhyun’s mouth, his cheek, his neck, running his mouth the whole time.

“God those heels. Keep them. Keep them please.” He bites Baekhyun’s earlobe as he thrusts and Baekhyun claws at what he can reach of his arms, dizzy, spiralling higher, getting off exactly as Chanyeol knows they both love; two minutes from getting sprung. Chanyeol twists his wrist, constantly rubbing against the sensitive, dripping head of Baekhyun’s cock. “I wanna fuck you properly in those so bad. You look fucking amazing, baby. Who said you could be this sexy where everyone else could see?”

Baekhyun whines and claws at the metal, unable to stop bucking his hips, feeling his own orgasm spin tighter down his spine and Chanyeol tense behind him. To his left the panel light for the floors blinks back on. God. Baekhyun covers Chanyeol’s hand with his own and reaches back, dragging him into a desperate kiss. He strokes tighter, faster, guiding Chanyeol when he can feel his rhythm stumble as he bites down on Baekhyun’s lower lip and comes warm and wet between his legs with a shuddering ‘fuck’. The floor light starts to drop and the whole elevator lurches into movement with it. Baekhyun is so fucking hard, so slick now that their movements are sloppy and he pushes Chanyeol’s hand away, turning back around and shoving him to his knees with a firm hand on his shoulder. He wants this so bad.

Baekhyun tips Chanyeol’s head back and watches those hazy eyes blink as he grins dopily up at Baekhyun, uncaring they they’re only twenty floors from the lobby now and dropping. Jesus. His little exhibitionist.

“Do it,” Chanyeol breathes and that’s it. Baekhyun groans, jerking himself off lightning-fast until his knees buckle and he comes over Chanyeol’s eager, pleasure-drunk face. Fuck.

Baekhyun steps forward in his pretty heels and feeds Chanyeol his dick, watching him suck it clean happily. The rhythmic motion against his oversensitive skin is decadent and makes Baekhyun tremble. He gathers up the streaks of come that litter Chanyeol’s cheeks with shaking fingers and pushes them into his mouth alongside his cock as it softens. Chanyeol laps at it all, swallowing. Fuck he’s good. He’s perfect. And he’s Baekhyun’s.

They’re ten floors away now and closing fast. Reluctantly Baekhyun pulls out, quickly wrapping the coat back around himself to hide the dripping mess between his legs. Chanyeol tucks himself away and stands. Baekhyun picks up the torn underwear and wipes up what he can, but the whole elevator reeks of sex and Chanyeol sniggers, satiated and cocky. Baekhyun hits him on the arm.

Chanyeol drops a kiss on Baekhyun’s temple and takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. Baekhyun takes a firm hold of one of his wrists and stares straight ahead, schooling his features.

The elevator jolts into place on the bottom floor and the doors open.

* * *


	5. Living Dead Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 181 - “If you’re bored; wanna have sex?”
> 
> Title: Living Dead Girl | Kyungsoo & reader (no pairing) | Post-apocalyptic zombie AU | Rating: M | Action - violence and bloodshed | 3.9k

“If you’re bored; wanna have sex?”

Slanting your eyes off your half empty drink and out to the couple two seats down at the bar, you laugh quietly to yourself. 

Perhaps once upon a time people weren’t so forward. But that was in the Before. This is now, and with half of humanity rotting in their own undeath and the rest holed up in whatever broken wreck of a town they can find in a zip code as far from the big cities as possible… well. Everything goes. Life is short and saying what’s on your mind is paramount. Especially with a few drinks in you.

Apparently the woman nearest to you thinks the same thing because she grabs the hand of the lady she’s with and drags her off their stools, wobbling and giggling as they make for the stairwell that sits behind a side door. They’ve almost made it when a voice cuts out from behind the bar.

“Hey! Outside. We’re not a hotel.”

The blonder of the two spins back with an angry, tipsy point in a direction somewhere past you. “Screw you. Come on man!”

The voice shifts position and it’s closer now. “I’m not telling you twice.”

The woman’s companion now rounds on the speaker as well and you’re rather abruptly in the middle of something you didn’t particularly want to have to witness. Her voice rises, becoming high pitched. “Another three walkers been seen out past the outskirts as of last night! Where else are we gonna go?”

A slow scrape of something synthetic against the wood of the bar top makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You finally turn as a longbow is brought to bear not far from your shoulder, the barkeep knocking an arrow with an impressive amount of strength.

“I said…” The string creaks with the force required to hold the arrow in place. “Get out. You want to fuck and draw the walkers, go find an abandoned house. Not the back of my bar. There’s other people here and you know they can smell pheromones. You’ll risk everyone.”

The blonde angrily flips him off as her companion all but drags her out the heavily reinforced front door. With a sigh you hear the bartender lower his bow. You have no freaking clue where he found or learned to use such a huge weapon but guns are a luxury few can afford nowadays. Bullets even less. So you hook an elbow on the wood and return to your drink.

It allows you to look at the stranger properly. He’d done nothing besides docilely serve you the home brew you’d asked for when you first walked in. But now you consider the possibility that you might have misjudged him. He collects the empty glasses the girls left in a haphazard pile and wipes the bar up silently, either oblivious or uncaring as you size him up. Finally you make your assessment and speak.

“What’s your name?”

The bartender keeps cleaning. “Not interested.”

You lift the cracked plastic cup to your mouth, smiling against the rim. “Not offering.” You assure quickly. “Just asking.”

Dark eyes flick up. “Kyungsoo,” he replies after a few seconds and you get the distinct impression that you were just sized up a hell of a lot faster. He doesn’t ask your name. “What brings you to this district?”

A shrug feels natural. “Work,” you answer honestly. That makes Kyungsoo narrow his eyes. Perhaps he didn’t pigeonhole you correctly after all. How interesting.

“You’re a necromancer?”

You nod, swirling the remnants in the bottom of the glass. There’s a shit ton of sediment down there but if you want a drink you take what you can get. The days of properly distilled alcohol are long past. You swallow the last dregs. It burns. “Seems to be what people call me most often.”

Kyungsoo takes the empty glass when you set it down and tilts it towards you in a silent offer of a second round. You’ve nursed this one long enough that you think it’s a rather hopeful attempt on his part. But he wouldn’t have turned this derelict bar into a workable bunker if he wasn’t persistent and perhaps a little hopeful. Still, you shake your head. Kyungsoo shrugs and sets the cup in the sink with the rest. He stows the longbow carefully.

“Where’s your kit?”

Ah. So you were assessed. You smile despite yourself. “Out with my horse.”

“Your… horse.”

“What? You think I drove here? You’re ten days out from the nearest city.” You can see he’s still vastly skeptical. It makes you roll your eyes. “When was the last time you  _saw_  something with diesel fuel?”

That hits home. Kyungsoo nods, accepting. “Okay fine.” He thinks for a minute and then tosses the rag away. “Where the hell did you find it anyway?”

“Abandoned farm. Owner had been dead for a week. What was left of him was crawling around inside the barn.” The memory is haunting. “The horse was trapped in there too and hadn’t slept, hadn’t ate, was terrified out of it’s mind. All it did was keep circling just out of reach.”

Kyungsoo cocks his head. “Why didn’t it just stomp him? I’ve seen all kinds of animals fight for their lives when a walker threatens them.”

Your look is grim so you aim it down at the bar top instead. “The corpse still looked mostly like it’s owner. I’m guessing it loved him and couldn’t do it.”

Kyungsoo looks curious and mildly nauseous in equal measure when you raise your eyes again. “So you did.”

“I put him to rest, yes. The moment I did the horse fainted from exhaustion. Must have known it didn’t need to hold out any more. I thought it was going to die too at first. But it slept for the day and a half I was raiding the farm for supplies and then I gave it water when it woke up. She’s followed me ever since.”

Kyungsoo lets out a low whistle. “That’s some way to make a friend.”

This time your smile is genuine. “I know how to find good creatures.”

One eyebrow and then another climbs up Kyungsoo’s forehead. The move highlights a faint scar just below his hairline. “And I’m guessing that means you totally just stopped in my bar for the quality of the alcohol.”

Oh he’s not bad. You rest back on your stool. “I like looking around when I arrive somewhere new. And not many people can nock a longbow that easily, not even in days Before. You’re not exactly six foot and made of muscle.”

Kyungsoo scowls but there’s no heat in it. “I don’t like being defenceless.”

Your lips quirk. “How good a shot are you?”

“I can drop a walker at a hundred yards. Sometimes I practice on the roof.” It’s said with no bluster, just facts. He’s to the point and you like that a great deal. Reciprocating in kind seems the right thing to do.

“I’m looking for a little help. And some local knowledge.”

Kyungsoo frowns. “I’m nobody’s apprentice. Least of all a necromancer.”

That was… unexpected. “I can pay,” you throw in, attempting to be a little persuasive. Kyungsoo laughs, the sound short and deep.

“In what? Magic? Currency isn’t exactly a thing any more.”

“I can ward your building,” you wheedle, dangling a hefty metaphysical carrot. “It’s good for about a year until the elements wear down the spellwork.”

That makes Kyungsoo pause. You can almost see the wheels turning. He hesitates, thinking it over. It’s a damn good offer and you’ve yet to have it refused. A year of guaranteed warding against the undead makes for an invaluable bunker. And in a small town it could house nearly everyone for miles around if needed…

Kyungsoo exhales. “What exactly would it involve?” He doesn’t look nervous like some you’ve conscripted, merely focused. You smile. He’s in.

“I have two friends not far from here. They scouted the area ahead of me for the last couple of weeks. We’ve been tracking walkers who have been converging in this town for a while now. It’s a long way from anywhere so you shouldn’t be having this many undead paying you a visit. They mostly stay in the cities.”

Kyungsoo follows along. “We’ve had weird encounters lately, yeah. Way too many to be normal. Walkers follow the living only if there’s a breadcrumb trail of them going somewhere. Otherwise they stay in what’s left of the cities where there’s enough food to confuse them. They don’t just wander off in the hopes of finding something. It’s not in their nature.”

All of the above is correct and you agree. Standard zombie 101. However… “There’s also one more thing that the undead follow.” You push aside the scrap of cardboard that had filled in for a coaster and expose the wood below. Dragging a finger in a circle, you spread the moisture left on the bartop and ignite it with a snap of your fingers. Unearthly blue flame sparkles to life. “Magic. They can’t feed on it but they can be tricked into following the taste of it instead of human flesh for long enough that they can be guided. Manipulated.”

Kyungsoo quickly grabs his rag and tosses it over the rune. The sparkling blue flame puffs out. He glances around but none of the other patrons seem to have noticed anything. “Who would want to do that? What’s the point?”

“If you wanted to clear out a town to come in and take its resources for yourself, walkers seem to be a pretty foolproof way of doing it. Might take a few weeks but once they start coming en masse then you’re shit out of luck.”

A wash of confusion floods Kyungsoo’s face. “But… We’re not special. All we have are farmers, a few tradesmen and whatever drifters decide to spend some time here.”

“Then it’s nothing personal. You’re just the next on the list.”

“There’s a list?”

“There’s a pattern. Whoever is doing this is moving west, in a direct line between the last two outpost cities on this side of the continent.” You lift a shoulder. “You just happen to be next. But I could always use another pair of hands to help hunt for this fucker.”

Kyungsoo frowns. “What kind of person would do this though?”

“Another necromancer. It’s the only type of magic the undead will follow. Someone who went rogue is my best guess. Broke the code.” Pushing off the bar, you drop to your feet. “Baekhyun and Chanyeol followed the magic here and waited. Sure enough the walkers started appearing, just a few at first.” The bag at your feet is light as you pick it up, swinging it over one shoulder. The contents clink. “But soon you’ll have too many here to handle. This is the first time we’re ahead of the curve and I want to make it count.”

Kyungsoo draws his bottom lip into his mouth. “How long do we hav-”

A hard banging on the reinforced steel of the front door shatters the bubble you two have sunk into. A woman screeches, voice echoing into the building. It’s strangely familiar.

“Let me in! For fucks sake  _open the door_.”

You share a glance with Kyungsoo and slowly move towards the door. Kyungsoo reaches below the bar and withdraws his bow. Intimately, horribly familiar with screams like that, the other patrons of the bar scramble up and flee out the back in a jumble of arms and legs. You don’t blame them. Nothing good ever follows.

You move to the door and at Kyungsoo’s nod throw the bolt open. The heavy door pushes inward, screeching on it’s chains. A figure tumbles inside, bloodied and crying. It’s the blonde from before. She immediately spins and tries to close the door but one of her legs bends at a horrible angle and she collapses.

“Shut it out! Quick!!”

You look up. Shambling, dragging her broken limbs, dress from earlier torn to shreds and soaked in blood, the woman’s date looms into view down the end of the road. Behind her five more walkers keep pace. You immediately slam the door shut, replacing the bolt. The woman curls into herself, sobbing.

“They  _found_  us! I don’t know how they found us! We were just- and Li was bit so many times and…” As if just now registering that she’s also injured, the woman breaks off, clutching her leg. “ _No!_ ” She turns to look up at you, frantic. “I don’t want to die, don’t let me die. Please. I can’t become one of  _them_!”

Kyungsoo rounds the bar as you step back from the woman. He takes one look at her mangled leg and silently raises his bow. Then he nocks an arrow. The woman screams. You dodge her grasping hand, stepping back to the door.

“I’m getting my horse inside.” You look down at her prone figure on the floor. “Sit still and put pressure on your leg or you’ll bleed out before I can help you.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t take his gaze off the woman. “Your beast wrecks this place and I’m feeding her to the walkers myself.”

Lifting the bolt, you look back at him. “Open the door only for me. She’s just been bitten once so the contagion will be slower to take effect, but if she shows signs of shifting before I get back, shoot her through the heart or head.”

“I know the spots.” Kyungsoo replies quietly. “Go get your horse.”

Slipping out the door you throw a hand up and toss a bolt of blue fire directly up into the night sky like a flare. Chanyeol and Baekhyun will see it and know to come.

Whistling sharply, you cross out into what was once a car park. When cars were actually a thing. Now it’s an overgrown lot full of weeds. The sound of hoofbeats bursts out of the tree line and you brace, catching the pommel of the saddle as Elyxion thunders past, swinging yourself into the seat. Gathering the reins you turn her head and make for the bar. Two more walkers stumble out of the gloom from the back of the building and now you have eight of the undead fuckers. The first two make it nearly to the front door.

Reaching into the pouches hooked onto the back of the saddle you coat the fingers of one hand in grave dust. The bag over your shoulder houses throwing knives; you pluck four out. Tendrils of sparkling blue magic trail down your arm, turning black when they hit the grave dust. The knives you slide between each finger. The magic elongates them. “Hey!” you call out. The first walker at the door turns what’s left of it’s head. Maggots drop out of the hole where an ear once grew. Lovely. Then it lunges.

Broadsiding Elyxion, you fling out the knives. The magic on them leaves a glittering trail in the air. The first two hit the zombie and ignite, your own unearthly fire consuming the undead thing where it stands as if it’s animated flesh was made of paper. It screams beautifully and something dark unfolds in your chest. Death magic loves drinking the undead.

The second walker jumps like a leech, latching onto the saddlebags. Whirling Elyxion around you throw the other two knives. One passes through what you thought was an arm and misses. The second ignites, boiling half the body as it still mindlessly tries to tear into the horse below the saddle. But it’s not enough… Stretching back you grab the decaying head and clench your fingers into the rotting skull. Only necromancy can truly grant the second death for these things and you grab the essence of what was once the soul inside that shell and yank it out. The corpse drops to the ground like it’s strings were cut, eye sockets smoking.

Instead of releasing the essence you absorb it, watching the faint glow slide into your skin. Perhaps once you would have felt guilty for this. After all each of these things was once a living, breathing person. But the days of priests and gods are long gone, ever since souls started to became trapped in this earthly hell of a purgatory. Now at least this one serves a purpose. Power.

The girl from before shambles up to the car park, trailing the five other walkers. Both her feet are broken at the ankles. Yelling for Kyungsoo to open the door you round Elyxion and duck low, aiming for it and galloping through as he drags the metal apart. Once inside you swing down, turning to the others. Kyungsoo slams the door shut, looks to you and blanches.

“Your eyes.”

“Don’t look if it frightens you.” Dipping your fingers into the saddlebag you re-coat them and grab two vials that are knocking around in there, bathing in the dust. It’s high quality stuff. You even found the grounds of a consecrated church to dig it all up. The liquid contents of the vials warm faintly at your touch and you take them over to the woman.

She’s still sobbing on the floor, shaking like a leaf. Looks like the beginnings of shock. At least she still has tears left. That’s a good sign; the contagion sucks a body dry of water in the later stages. All that’s left is slowly rotting blood and whatever goop the internal organs become. You crouch down. “Hold still.”

The woman looks up. It’s a mistake. She spots your eyes and nearly climbs the wall to get away. You reach out and snatch her bloodied wrist. “Do you want to live or not?”

Broken fingers scrabble at the windows, breaking themselves as they try to tear away the wooden planks nailed across the glass. Kyungsoo stands over you and redraws his bow. He closes one eye and sights down the length of the arrow. Then he exhales, releases and the huge bolt punches through the glass just as the walker cracks off a piece. It strikes straight through its forehead and the creature falls away, killed.

“Nice shot.” You empty the contents of the first vial down your forearm. The woman whimpers.

“Is that blood?”

“ _Now_  you’re squeamish?” Pulling her wrist closer you empty the second over her arm. “Living blood for your dying blood. The universe always needs an exchange.” Holding her hand in yours, you tug out a knife with the other. “All things in balance. But if you wanted a hero you’re in the wrong century. Now hold still. This  _is_  going to hurt.”

Bringing your free hand up you palm the knife for a moment and press your thumb to her forehead, sketching a rune. It flares to life the moment it’s completed, burning deeply into her flesh. The woman shrieks and above you Kyungsoo looses another arrow. You twist the knife back properly in your grip, take a deep breath and shove it down, piercing through both your clasped hands. The tip embeds into the wooden flooring below and your magic rushes out of the wound, through the blood and dust and then into the woman via her own cut, flaring into a thousand miniature black stars around you both as it takes hold. A faint wind of no earthly origin whips up, billowing your hair.  

You can do this, you think as you grit your teeth. Even if it’s been a while. The rune will keep her soul safely in her own body, even as your blackened magic seeks to suck it out. You only want the contagion. Below you her skin shimmers and mists, becoming translucent to your adjusted eyes. Through it you can see everything. This is the part that your necromancy allows you to see right before you kill something. Every vulnerable organ, every weak spot. But you’re using it differently this time, going against its very nature. You’re going to save a life.

_Such a fragile little human_ , the darkness in your chest whispers.  _Why bother saving it? Everything breaks eventually. Death is the only absolute certainty._

Kyungsoo looks down at the ritual, swearing softly. A walker finally climbs over the body of it’s fallen and breaks through the window. Glass shatters around you and you ignore it. You have to. The woman is stupidly gazing into your eyes again and while you look below her skin to the spreading lines of disease you know what she’s seeing on her end. Your eyes aren’t human any more. Not while you do this. “Keep firing,” you grit out. “Don’t let them in.”

Behind you Elyxion whinnies, pawing anxiously. You tune it out because your magic has already found what it seeks. The contagion is deep and corrupting at a cellular level. You reach for it everywhere you can find; skin, organs, bone, offering the virus your own more tempting magic to chase instead. It overdoses the woman’s system as it scours through every inch of her like fire until she’s screeching constantly in pain, body nearly bowing off the floor, but it’s the only way. Her heart is the final piece and you leave it for last. Cleansing it might just stop it permanently. Taking a breath you ignore the darkness inside you that pulses eagerly at the thought. Not today. No more souls. Above you Kyungsoo drops another walker, reloading.

You reach in with your necromancy and squeeze her heart. The woman seizes up, eyes huge and uncomprehending. But connected to you now, each thread of the contagion reverses it’s destructive path and flows back along the magic, racing, trying to get to the source. To you. Your magic is more powerful, more tempting than living flesh and this is what you’re counting on. You count down and watch below the woman’s skin as it rushes towards you. Come on… It needs to be everything. Every last scrap.

…now.

You release her heart and it restarts beating. The woman sucks in a horrified breath. It’s in that moment that you yank the knife out and sever the direct blood connection. It forcefully rips your necromancy back out of the woman and the darkness howls angrily, denied. But you ignore it, gathering the diseased magic as it hovers in the air with nowhere to go. A quickly sketched rune of blue fire burns the ugly collection to ash. Dust to dust. You swipe your hand across the woman’s forehead, breaking the rune there and she passes out in front of you both, the trauma too much for her overwhelmed mind to handle.

Kyungsoo braces his arrow and glances down. “Did you kill her?”

“No,” you breathe, swallowing and pushing at the darkness until it coils patiently back up inside your chest like a waiting snake. The necromancy snuffs out from your fingers, leaving them cold. Let your magic dine on the contagion for now. It’ll be enough. “But she’s not infected any more. She’s safe.” Outside there’s a loud whoop and you smile at the sound. You know it very well. “Help has arrived.”

The walker closest to the window is yanked back out of sight and the shadow of an axe whistles past the gap. Kyungsoo squints, lowering his weapon. “Your friends?”

Wiping the knife on your pants you drop it back into the bag, nodding wearily. “Yep.” You rip off a portion of the woman’s sleeve that you’re pretty damn sure she’s not going to miss and tourniquet her leg. Then you bind her bleeding hand. “They have way too much fun with this.”

Laughter drifts through the broken window. Kyungsoo looks like he’s seriously considering the fact that you might all be very, very mad. Elyxion lips at one of the plastic cups on the bar.

“So,” You sit back on your haunches. “What do you say? Are you in?”

Kyungsoo grins.

* * *


	6. Accidental Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini-fic #1 from the fluffy Bingo prompts on tumblr for my birthday month.
> 
> 🎁 Accidental Kiss 🎁 
> 
> Chanbaek | Non-AU | Rating: G | Fluff | 2.3k

It’s Sehun who draws the piece of white paper out of the container. He unfolds it, reads it and starts laughing.

“What is it?” the talkshow host asks, pointing out beyond the bright lights of the sound-stage. “Please show the cameras!”

Sehun flips the piece of paper around and the host claps, swinging her feet happily where she sits on her small stool. “Pepero challenge!” She hops off her seat while several of the members groan playfully into the small mics bent around their cheeks. “Very popular. We even have a ruler here and we will be measuring to decide the winner.” With a swoop she fetches a small bundle that sits amongst the other items just out of view of the set.

Chanyeol hunches in his seat, trying to make himself as small as possible and he’s pretty sure Jongdae next to him is doing the same. Kyungsoo is staring at Sehun with a look that plainly says he will willingly set fire to something Sehun holds very dear if he so much as chooses him as his partner. And absolutely everyone else is smiling at the ground or off into space as if that will somehow dissuade Sehun from noticing they still exist. They’re utterly hopeless when it comes to this _one_  game, for all the other things they do on stage and they know it.  _Who thought this was a clever idea?_

Chanyeol knows it’s all part of promotions, but he thinks maybe they’ve been out of the game for too long with over a whole year away from comebacks and the studios have somehow forgotten their ridiculousness at this kind of challenge. And also…  Chanyeol quietly wishes they’d drawn a different card for far more selfish reasons. Years ago he wouldn’t have minded but now… Baekhyun is to his left and if Chanyeol just _doesn’t_  look his way, doesn’t turn his head maybe luck will be on their side and he won’t have to embarrass himself by thinking about how this whole scenario resembles a pseudo-kiss…

“Who do you pick?” The host reappears with her bundle full of items. She withdraws a box of pepero and cracks the top.  “We need two teams.”

Sehun looks smug. Chanyeol knows that look and quickly resumes staring at his shoelaces as Sehun slowly walks behind the row of them on their chairs like an executioner. Chanyeol hears his hand land on the first shoulder. Jongin pretends to whine but he’s laughing too much to pull it off. The host beckons for him and Minseok very helpfully pushes Jongin off his chair.

“Kai! Please come stand over here. Who will be the other team?”

Chanyeol balls his hands up into fists inside his long sleeves. He hears Sehun tap the next person.

“Baekhyun! Come join Kai.”

_Please no, oh please no…_

A hand descends onto Chanyeol’s shoulder and he jumps. He can _feel_ the cheerful relief from everyone else around him as they’re not chosen to make nearly every fan’s dream come true. At least not today. Lucky fuckers.

Except Chanyeol _is_  chosen. And so is Baekhyun. And fans are definitely not the only ones who have been dreaming about kissing those mochi-cheeks and soft pink lips in their dreams…  _Crap._  Chanyeol stands slowly, feeling like a neon sign blazes over his head that says ‘completely in love with an angel-voiced cutie’ for the world to see as he tries to let absolutely nothing show on his face.

_Thank god all this is pre-recorded to be aired tomorrow night._  Chanyeol doesn’t think he could do it if there were real screaming fans here. He’d probably trip over his own feet or something else in the middle of it all. At least the empty studio with only the silent sound and technical teams give them the illusion of privacy. Somewhat. He used to be so much better at this. He  _used_ to not have a desperately unspoken crush on Baekhyun.  _Oh boy._

Baekhyun grins as Chanyeol comes to stand beside him, rocking on his heels. Chanyeol swallows and smiles back faintly. It’s all he can manage. Baekhyun’s rocking slows and then stops. He angles his mic away from his cheek and stretches up on tiptoes. Chanyeol quickly covers his own with his hand.

“Are you okay?” Baekhyun looks concerned at Chanyeol’s rigid stance. His eyes flick over him from head to toe as Chanyeol nods far too quickly.  _Get it together, Yeol. It’s just a game. No one is going to know… It’s not a real kiss. It’s not even close._

“I’m fine.” Chanyeol deliberately moves his hand away from his mic which cuts off Baekhyun’s ability to whisper back to him and not be broadcast. Baekhyun drops back down, looking hurt as the host brings Sehun back over to join them all, tugging Jongin out to play with him centre-stage and Chanyeol  _immediately_  feels like the worst friend ever. He tells himself not to be a baby and plucks at Baekhyun’s sleeve, curling his hand around it. Chanyeol can fit all of Baekhyun’s delicate wrist inside the circle of his fingers if he chooses and he does so now, silently asking for his attention back.

Baekhyun’s eyes flick back up to his. Chanyeol offers a brighter smile, mouthing ‘I’m sorry’. The effect is instantaneous; Baekhyun perks up like a watered sunflower and Chanyeol’s heart _squeezes_  at the sight. It takes so little to make him happy. Chanyeol doesn’t ever know why he stops trying to do that, why he doesn’t try his hardest every day to make Baekhyun smile just like that, to look up at him like Chanyeol hung the freaking moon–

The host abruptly squeaks and Chanyeol can hear a resounding chorus of  _oooohs_  from the rest of the group. He quickly looks out as Jongin playfully shoves Sehun back from him and spits a tiny piece of pepero into his palm. The host goes for her ruler. Baekhyun starts rocking happily again, bouncing on his heels as he watches. It figures he likes this ridiculous game today. Chanyeol can’t clue in as to why, though. It’s not like he’s ever particularly wanted to play it befor–

Oh. Chanyeol goes very, very still as the host measures the little piece of pepero, holding both objects up clearly for the multiple cameras to zoom in on. Beside him Baekhyun is grinning like he’s about to burst. Chanyeol can feel his mind start to race because no. No way. There’s not a single hope in hell that Baekhyun might want to play the game right now because Chanyeol is…

“One inch!” The host yells, dropping the used piece onto a tray that’s been produced like it’s some kind of trophy. The rest of the group whistles and cheers safely from their nice comfy seats because it’s all fine when  _you’re_  not the one having to play. Chanyeol is going to will the most embarrassing challenge into existence when it’s his turn to pick from the paper container.

Baekhyun steps forward as the host motions for them and Chanyeol quickly drops his handhold, walking into view of the cameras beside him. The lights follow them, adjusting to where they stand in front of the row of chairs. Chanyeol takes a deep breath as Baekhyun spins to face him.

“One inch?” Baekhyun checks with the host, who nods at him. “We can beat that.”

And dammit all, Chanyeol is  _competitive_. If there’s one thing he hates it’s losing. And so does Baekhyun. Chanyeol scrunches up his face in frustration at himself and his own stupid urges. One day it’s going to get him into trouble. But as Baekhyun pulls a pepero stick from the box of them the host is holding and slips the end between his own lips, Chanyeol thinks he might _already_  be in trouble.

Baekhyun looks up at Chanyeol, stepping closer. His face is full of mischief, cheeks tiny puffs and as his hands settle on Chanyeol’s shoulders to tug him down close enough to get within range, Chanyeol is helpless to do anything other than cup Baekhyun’s waist in his palms. His fingertips almost touch around at the small of his back, oh  _god._

Baekhyun winks at him.

Chanyeol gulps, a complete bundle of nerves. Can Baekhyun feel his hands shaking? He’s not going to mess this up. He’s not. Jongin and Sehun got an inch. Chanyeol and Baekhyun could do better. They could  _win_.

Chanyeol takes the other end of the stick in his teeth, feeling the tip touch his tongue. Chocolate flavour spreads out and he steadies himself, dipping his knees slightly to accommodate Baekhyun. He’s the anchor so Chanyeol has to be the one to move closer, he…

A muscle tics in his nervous jaw and Chanyeol bites down accidentally. The stick cracks in half between them, breaking open. Everyone yells out, teasing them both for being clumsy and Chanyeol blushes, shaking his head. “Sorry, sorry. No, it was me.” He quickly chews up his broken end. “I’ll do it right next time.”

The host graciously holds out the box again. Chanyeol takes a stick and turns back just in time to see Baekhyun slowly and deliberately licking the last smears of chocolate off his thumb. He gives Chanyeol’s stricken look wide, innocent eyes in return and crunches down on his little mouthful. “What?”

Chanyeol isn’t going to survive this. He’s not. He’s going to give up this whole idol gig and go live in a cabin in the sweeping mountain ranges of China where no one knows him. He’s-

Baekhyun swallows his food and licks his lips clean too, waving impatiently at Chanyeol. “C’mon. Here, you anchor it. I’ll do the rest.”

Chanyeol makes a sound probably at a pitch high enough that dogs can hear. He clears his throat and tries again. “A-are you sure? I can-”

Baekhyun plucks the pepero from Chanyeol’s unmoving fingers and steps forward again, reaching up and pushing the stick between Chanyeol’s lips, cutting him off because he immediately has to bite down carefully so as to keep hold. “Just wait for me.” Baekhyun’s voice is teasingly deep, but his eyes are gentle. “And I’ll come to you.”

Chanyeol makes a soft, wounded sound.  _Surely he doesn’t mean…_  But Baekhyun flashes him a coy little smile before taking hold of Chanyeol’s biceps and using them as leverage to pick up the pepero’s dangling other end in his mouth. Chanyeol faintly bends down again on autopilot, locking his jaw as best he can to be helpful. He’s vaguely aware of the others around them, of the fucking _cameras_  trained on their faces so he tries to school his expression into something appropriate. He’s sure his pulse can be seen hammering in his neck at the close-up.

Baekhyun starts to nibble up the stick, stretching closer and right now Chanyeol is at a loss for what to do with his hands because he’s not controlling this, he’s just… watching the person who has his whole heart wrapped around his finger move closer like some kind of fever dream.

Nibbling most of the stick away, Baekhyun faintly angles his head so their noses don’t bump and Chanyeol forgets how to breathe because this is so much closer, so much like that reoccurring dream he lets himself have when he’s alone at night and… Chanyeol’s eyes grow lidded and he blinks to keep Baekhyun’s face in view as he carefully lips his way up the very last part of the stick.

Chanyeol thinks he hears rising cheering from everyone around him, but it might as well be from Antarctica for all he pays attention right now. Because Baekhyun’s hands squeeze and he gets onto his tiptoes and…

Baekhyun  _smiles_. Right before he deliberately nips the stick and topples forward, sliding into Chanyeol with a soft sound. Their lips meet and press, softness and warmth and Baekhyun is still holding onto him as Chanyeol hears the host have a coronary beside him, but he doesn’t care, can’t care because Baekhyun is _kissing_  him. Really, really kissing him and Chanyeol’s hands fly up, time restarts in a sudden pop and he pushes them apart-

Baekhyun grins at everyone. Chanyeol is bright,  _bright_  red and his brain is still caught on that last moment (was it really just a moment?) as Junmyeon launches to his feet. He moves for the host, taking her by the arm and making cutting motions underneath his throat towards the camera crew while the rest of the group dogpile onto them, whooping and hollering like gleeful idiots and Chanyeol… is still stunned. He looks tentatively back to Baekhyun, shyer than he can ever remember feeling.

Baekhyun catches his look and draws a corner of his bottom lip into his mouth, flashing Chanyeol the cutest wink he’s ever been privy to. Chanyeol’s heart trips over itself.  _Does that mean…_

Lifting a hand Baekhyun passes it across his mouth and comes away with something minuscule. He clears his throat and holds it up for everyone to see.

It’s a half inch piece of pepero.

Baekhyun grabs Chanyeol’s hand in his clean one, raising their fists triumphantly into the air as self-declared winners to the others, even though absolutely  _none_  of this footage will ever see the light of day now. Everyone claps and cheers appropriately for them, still giggling amongst themselves as Baekhyun lets his hand go and Chanyeol feels suddenly, shockingly adrift by the loss of contact.

Turning, Baekhyun moves away, squeezing out between the others around them and Chanyeol droops, heart caving in. He almost reaches for Baekhyun as he disappears, afraid that if he lets this moment go then maybe he’ll have imagined it all; that maybe is  _was_  just a completely accidental kiss and nothing will have changed. That he’s still the only one who feels–

Movement reappears and a hand taps him softly on the shoulder. Chanyeol turns around.

Baekhyun has another pepero stick in his mouth, eyebrows raised expectantly. Chanyeol  _lights up_  and swoops in. He wraps Baekhyun up and lifts him bodily off the ground. A pair of slender legs wind perfectly around his waist, locking behind his back and two gentle hands drag him forward.

Chanyeol takes the whole stick in one bite, sealing their mouths together. Junmyeon declares the entire interview over then and there.

* * *


	7. Showing some skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini-fic #2 from the fluffy Bingo prompts on tumblr for my birthday month.
> 
> 🎁 Showing some skin 🎁 
> 
> Title: Unspoken | Kaisoo | College-AU | Rating: PG | Fluff | 3.5k

Art class was always an escape. Something to take Jongin’s mind off the stresses of the rest of college life. Degrees could be hard. Friendships could be hard. But somehow on every Monday and Thursday of the week when a little object was still and perfectly balanced on a stool in front of him to sketch and capture, life slowed down just long enough for Jongin to breathe.

Until that object was Do Kyungsoo. At which point Jongin’s calm promptly went to hell in a handbasket.

It’s a particularly nondescript Monday afternoon when Jongin is unpacking his pencils and charcoal from his little art satchel that he carries, setting up behind his easel. The rest of the class is filtering in around him, talking and laughing and doing things that Jongin always feels just a little on the outside edge of. Not that Jongin doesn't have offers of conversations -everyone who saw him seemed to want to try at first- it was just that Jongin is painfully quiet. And not everyone takes kindly to that when the tall, handsome boy with the floppy hair and dark eyes seems unwilling to hold a proper conversation. Jongin has heard the whispers.

_Cute but dreadfully shy. Don’t bother._

_He’d be hot if he opened his mouth more and actually said something, god._

_Imagine him in a leather jacket instead of those stupid long-sleeved sweaters._

_Such a shame._

So Jongin keeps his eyes down, unpacks his little satchel and neatly arranges his art supplies on the thin shelf at the base of his easel. He adjusts the clips that hold his fresh piece of paper and sits back, waiting for their teacher to arrange whatever it is on the little stool in the middle of their semicircle. He’s late today; normally Mr Zhang is there before any of the students even arrive and is puttering about at the back. But today he’s missing.

Jongin plays with his phone as he waits while everyone else chatters and finally they hear footsteps. Mr Zhang appears, looking a little out of breath.

“Sorry everyone! Please, take your seats. I just had to wrap up a staff meeting. Now,” he walks into the centre of the room, dusting off his hands. “I have a surprise for you all today. For the rest of the semester we’ll be moving onto larger forms as we draw from life and we’re lucky enough to have with us today a model willing to pose.”

A smattering of happy applause greets his words. Jongin pockets his phone and peers around his easel as Mr Zhang turns and motions for someone in the doorway to step forward.  A young man walks in, dressed in a soft black shirt and dark jeans.

Oh. Jongin almost drops his pencil. He’s… This stranger, this short, serious-looking stranger might just be the most stunning person Jongin has ever laid eyes on.  _Wow_. Jongin swallows, ducking his eyes away as the young man gets to the middle of the room and waves silently at everyone. Jongin places his pencil down and flexes his fingers, trying to remember to do his little stretches so he can look busy, so he can  _not_  look like he’s checking out this stranger. Because god does he want to. He’s almost criminally cute.

 _Impartial Jongin. Impartial._   _He’s an object to draw, He’s…_  Jongin peeks out again. Mr Zhang is tugging the small stool they usually use into the centre of the space. “Everyone, this is Kyungsoo. He’s agreed to pose so that we can all begin working on muscle tone and structure.”

Work on…  _wait_. Jongin’s eyes go wide as Kyungsoo walks around behind the stool, raises his arms behind his head and calmly pulls his shirt off. He places it aside, his hands go to the button on his jeans and Jongin  _does_ drop his pencil.

The sound is shockingly loud in the quiet classroom. Face heating, Jongin quickly leans down to one side to scoop it back up. As he does he sneaks a glance up. Kyungsoo, hands skimming underneath the jeans to slide them down over his hips, looks  _directly_  at him. One corner of his mouth lifts in a half smile.

Jongin shoots back behind his easel, staring at the blank paper, taking a few deep breaths. His hair is in his eyes so he pushes his fringe back, running both his hands through his hair a couple of times to settle himself. When he chances a look back around Kyungsoo is turned slightly away, peeling the last leg of his jeans off one upraised foot, dropping them on top of his shirt. His underwear follows like it’s the most natural thing for him to strip down in front of a bunch of strangers and Jongin’s breath gets lodged somewhere behind his tongue at the sight of the cutest butt he’s ever seen before Kyungsoo slides onto the stool and crosses his legs, adopting a calm pose.

Jongin’s pencil hovers over the page. He starts.

* * *

Kyungsoo comes in every week for the rest of the semester. Jongin gets to class early every time and finds himself nearly the last to leave, wanting to pack up slowly so as to watch Kyungsoo talk and laugh with Mr Zhang.

And over the course of the following weeks, Jongin draws Kyungsoo from every possible angle. He has strikingly kissable lips and Jongin focuses on those a lot on days when he can’t get the shading the way he likes on another part of Kyungsoo’s body. He fills pages with different angles and limbs and that small mole on Kyungsoo’s neck that Jongin can see every time Kyungsoo poses facing to the left of the class. It feels intimate in a weird way. Like Kyungsoo has taken on a class of ten lovers who are slowly learning his body.

Jongin tells himself he’s an idiot for feeling jealous of the other nine.

Kyungsoo’s hands are a particular delight and Jongin teaches himself the muscles and tendons as he sketches them, shading the grooves between Kyungsoo’s knuckles with his thumb. He still doesn’t speak, staying quiet whenever the others ask questions of Mr Zhang during the classes. And sometimes, when Jongin looks around the corner of his easel he finds Kyungsoo watching  _him_.

Kyungsoo doesn’t break his pose to smile because that might disrupt an artist in progress, but one afternoon as Jongin is feeling brave enough to look him in the eye because he’s studying the fall of Kyungsoo’s fringe over his forehead… Kyungsoo winks. And then returns to staring off into the distance, the perfect model.

Jongin’s brain short-circuits cutely and he’s a loss for the last half an hour of the class.

* * *

Their relationship is entirely silent. Kyungsoo sits and Jongin draws. And for someone as shy as Jongin that should have been perfect. It should have been everything. Except he finds that Kyungsoo is the only person who  _makes_  him want to talk. Jongin wants to walk up to him at the end of class and ask him how his day was. He wants to be a smooth as he sees other people be on campus, who flirt and sass each other with an ease that Jongin has never bothered to pick up because he’s busy and life just never turns out that way. Kyungsoo makes Jongin want to step outside of the box he usually sits in.

It’s amazing. And Kyungsoo’s thighs are a work of art. Jongin sketches the play of muscles under skin and silently aches inside.

* * *

Jongin figures he has enough time between classes to zoom through the cafeteria and try to wolf down something semi-edible before he has to meet the next section of his schedule head on. Even in the cafeteria the Christmas decorations are everywhere now, tinsel and baubles and bright trees in their fake pots that always lean a little crookedly so the lecturers prop them up in corners. Jongin picks up a tray, loads on a sandwich and a can of coke out of the fridge and figures that will have to do.

He’s absently eyeing off the deserts as he lines up to pay, wondering if any of them are still in date when the person in front of him stretches to pick one up and something small slides off his own tray.

Jongin crouches down, picking it up. He stands to politely hand it back and… freezes.

“Oh, hi!” Kyungsoo blinks up at Jongin. He looks at the little squeezy packet of yoghurt Jongin has retrieved for him. “Thanks.” And Jongin desperately tries to think up something to say because Kyungsoo is right _there_.

“I--sorry, I would have said hello earlier.” Jongin rushes to hand the packet back when he realises he’s still holding it. “I just didn’t recognise you from behind with…” he looks down at his tray and his sandwich. “…your clothes on.” Jongin finishes quietly, wincing. His ears burn.

Kyungsoo laughs. Jongin peeks up from behind his fringe. Right now he desperately wishes he were better at this, but he doesn’t know what to say… what  _do_  you say to someone you’ve been staring at naked for the last several weeks without making it awful?

But Kyungsoo backs up as the line moves, keeping Jongin in his view and Jongin has no choice but to follow because they’re in the stupid queue. So he steps along as Kyungsoo walks backwards and says the only thing that comes to mind because he’s an idiot apparently.

“Your smile is so interesting.”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows climb and Jongin rushes to explain. “I mean, uh. Your mouth. The way you smile would be interesting. To draw. You pose so seriously in class but you smile with Mr Zhang a lot and--I mean not that I’m looking…” Jongin shakes his head, dropping his eyes back down. This is painful. “Nevermind. I’m sorry.”

Kyungsoo stays silent which is the most peculiar thing because Jongin finds he has to make eye contact again, just to see if he’s ruined everything and-

Kyungsoo smiles. While looking directly at him. “That’s the most I think I’ve ever heard you say.”

Jongin swallows, taking another step in time as Kyungsoo backs away and this feels like some strange, mesmerising kind of dance. It almost makes Jongin feel like he’s the one being confident. He wonders if Kyungsoo is doing it on purpose. It makes Jongin lick his lips.

“I don’t talk much. Not… really. I like to listen mostly but people find that boring.”

Kyungsoo looks pleased. “You’re talking to me.”

And Jongin… is. He doesn’t know what to say to that. So Kyungsoo turns slightly to place his tray in front of the cashier, motioning for Jongin to do the same.

Paying takes only a second and when Jongin pockets his credit card and picks his tray up again he wonders if this is where people usually say goodbye. By now he’s used to getting odd looks and disappointed sighs when his hopeful conversation partners find out that the outside doesn’t match the inside and really for all his height and his looks he’s introverted as all heck. So when Jongin turns he fully expects Kyungsoo to have either wandered off or be looking for an excuse to leave. Both of which have happened to Jongin before countless times. He tells himself not to be too disappointed.

But Kyungsoo is still standing there, waiting for him. Jongin stops, dumbfounded. Kyungsoo smiles again and Jongin is surprisingly weak to that peculiar downward curve of his lips. “I don’t find silence boring,” Kyungsoo offers, backing up even though he’s not in a line anymore and Jongin unconsciously follows. Kyungsoo stops when he bumps into a table and places his tray down. “I’ve sat in your company for a month now and you’ve never said a word.”

And Jongin realises with a start that he’s right. He hesitantly places his food down too, removing his satchel from his shoulder and sinking into the seat opposite Kyungsoo, who immediately opens his dessert first and pushes the little piece between them. “Wanna share?”

Jongin gives a little nod, smiling for what feels like the first time. Kyungsoo hands him over a little plastic fork and they both pick apart the cake slice.

Kyungsoo talks. Jongin listens. And whenever Jongin feels timid at the thought of trying to continue the conversation Kyungsoo simply gives him something else off his tray to eat, to occupy him. Jongin has never felt so comfortable before -Kyungsoo makes this effortless- and he knows he’s giving Kyungsoo soft looks and giggling too much at his jokes but he’s never felt so  _warm_.

“You have a far nicer smile than me.” Kyungsoo finally says, sitting back and screwing up the wrapper that once housed his salad roll, after he’s told Jongin a story involving penguins that’s set him into fits of giggles. Jongin grins, shaking his head.

“No,” he says, without thinking. “No way. You have the most amazing-”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows raise and his tongue peeks out. “Don’t you dare say dick.”

And Jongin loses it. He has to put his head onto the table because he’s laughing so hard. He lolls his forehead against the tabletop in an approximation of a no and laughs until his stomach muscles ache. His shoulders are still shaking when he manages to push himself upright. “No, no…” he waves his hands. “Well yes. But no, I meant…” he ducks his head, exhaling in a long breath that still wobbles with laughter.

Kyungsoo’s foot nudges his under the table and Jongin smiles down at his lap. Another foot stretches out and brackets Jongin’s, lazily swinging his own foot back and forth until Jongin finds his words.

“Everything,” he finishes bashfully. “You have the most amazing everything.”

Silence greets that and Jongin can _feel_  his face heating up. Crap.  _Too far, Nini. Too far…_

He thinks he’s pretty sure he overstepped the mark there. He shouldn’t have said that. He just got caught up with this whole-

“Jongin?”

Jongin scoops up his satchel and stands. He’s probably irredeemably late for his next class anyway but he should… he should go. Jongin mumbles a thank you for the lunch and wants nothing more than to disappear. He’s almost managed to take a step away when a hand shoots out and snags the soft sleeve of his sweater.

“Hey,” Kyungsoo lets go almost immediately as if he knows not to push. He stands calmly and gathers up their trash. “Just so you know, there’s another class next Friday afternoon. Last thing.”

Jongin is too confused for a moment to keep moving. He tries to process that, since the art class schedule has always been Mondays and Thursdays. As he’s still trying to figure it out Kyungsoo empties their trays and stacks them on top of the industrial sized bin, wishing Jongin a sweet little goodbye that somehow,  _somehow_  saves everything and makes it all less awkward. Like Jongin wasn’t in the middle of running away and this whole interaction instead magically ended normally like everyone else’s. It’s… the first time in a very long time that Jongin can ever recall that happening.

He’s so late for class that he ends up having to borrow notes from the lecturer. But Kyungsoo’s talk with him lingers and Jongin thinks it over a great deal. Maybe… he’s not irredeemably awkward after all.

* * *

For the following art class on Monday, Jongin feels brave enough to ask his first mid-session question. Everyone seems a little surprised but Mr Zhang answers it smoothly and as Jongin is applying the technique to shading the delicate cut of Kyungsoo’s hip, he gets his first compliment from the boy that always sits to his left. Jongin smiles back at him.

Kyungsoo, when Jongin looks proudly up at him, winks.

Someone says something cute about one of his soft sweaters in Thursday’s class. Jongin pushes his sleeves up and manages a very quiet thank you. And even If he doesn’t talk again that afternoon, he feels warm again.

Kyungsoo takes a tour of all of the sketched pieces they’ve been working on for the finals at the end of the session, trailing a fluffy robe that‘s miles too long for him and squeezes one of Jongin’s fingers as he passes. Jongin squeezes back and floats for the rest of the day.

If there was one wish that Jongin has above all else though, it was that Kyungsoo would smile for one of his class poses. But having to hold the pose for a decent length of time, Jongin also knows it’s not the most practical.

Still, he wishes.

* * *

Friday appears in a rush of jumbled notes, mismatched highlighters, far too many different binders and Jongin barely makes it to the extra art class without dropping something important. He’s actually worried that he’s a little late, but as he walks in he’s relieved to find that he’s the only one there.

Which…  _wait a moment_. Jongin shuffles the binders in his arms and looks at his watch.

“No, you’re on time.” Kyungsoo brushes past Jongin, having entered the room behind him and making Jongin jump a mile. “Come sit down. Shut the door.”

“Wait-” Jongin fumbles for a moment but then closes the door and moves to his usual spot. “What’s…”

Kyungsoo places the stool he always uses into its spot under the best lights and turns to Jongin. “Extra class,” he replies simply. “I cleared it with Mr Zhang to use the room today.”

Befuddled, heart hammering, Jongin puts down his armful and glances around. Nope, they’re still alone. Kyungsoo shucks off his shirt and Jongin instantly drops his eyes, clutching at the edge of his easel. “Um…”  _How is this real…?_

Kyungsoo finishes undressing because Jongin is hyper aware of the sound of clothing and the scrape of a stool as he sits back on it. It takes a couple of goes but Jongin finally dances his eyes from his shoes to the cabinet counter to the wall posters and to… Kyungsoo.

“Just for me?” Jongin feels a little faint. He gets Kyungsoo all to himself.

“It’s easier to pose for one person.” Kyungsoo stretches his arms above his head, giving his back one last bit of movement before he sits still. “I can take breaks if you’re telling me what you’re drawing.”

Ah. Jongin remembers how to move, settling himself down on shaky legs behind his easel. “I’d…” he twists a pencil. “Like that.”

Kyungsoo gives him a fond glance. “And I can smile.”

If Jongin had puppy ears they would be  _up._  As it is Kyungsoo sees him perk and looks pleased.

So Jongin takes a deep breath and starts sketching.

As the afternoon ticks by the shadows around Jongin change enough that he gets up to turn on a better light to see Kyungsoo by. And when he tells Kyungsoo what part he’s up to below his neck, Kyungsoo talks to him, keeping the rest of himself perfectly still. Jongin listens, letting the many words fill the room as he stays mostly quiet. It’s perfect. Kyungsoo has a lovely voice and Jongin floats on it.

The only time it falls silent is whenever Jongin is working on his face. And then Kyungsoo smiles, just for him. Jongin captures it in black and white with so much enthusiasm that his fingers cramp.

When he’s almost done, Jongin asks how much time they have left. Kyungsoo tells him about ten minutes. So Jongin carefully shuffles his precious piece of paper aside and starts on something else. When Kyungsoo finally cricks his neck and reaches for the robe that hangs nearby, Jongin is finished on his extra piece. It’s the quickest thing he’s ever done.

Kyungsoo is endearingly adorable in his oversized fluffy white robe and Jongin’s heart has started up it’s overenthusiastic thumping again as Kyungsoo wanders over. Very quickly Jongin grabs his little second piece of paper and folds it against his chest, leaving only the sketch visible.

Kyungsoo gives a low whistle as he sees the drawing, leaning on Jongin’s shoulder to get a better look. “Wow.” He looks between Jongin and the sketch like he can’t quite believe it. “That’s really good. I like it a lo--what’s that?”

Jongin glances down to the second piece of paper in his hand. He’s surprised his pulse isn’t causing it to shake. Before he can think about it too much, Jongin silently holds it out. Okay, no he  _is_ trembling.

Kyungsoo takes the piece of paper and unfolds it. His whole face softens as he sees what’s on it and Jongin has never seen a smile as bright as _this_  one. Because Kyungsoo is beaming. “Yeah," Kyungsoo says softly, propping the piece up against the tray of the easel. “Definitely. Yes.”

Jongin swallows as Kyungsoo holds out both hands, taking Jongin’s in his own. He tugs until Jongin stands up and then they’re no longer the same eye level. But that doesn’t matter because Kyungsoo lets go, opens his arms and gathers Jongin up, squeezing until Jongin hugs him back, almost lifting Kyungsoo onto tiptoes as he spins them both.

Beside them both the piece of paper is knocked to the ground with the move. It flutters for a bit before settling, face up to display its contents.

_Will you go out with me?_

* * *


	8. 3am Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mini-fic #3 from the fluffy Bingo prompts on tumblr for my birthday month.
> 
> 🎁 3am Talks 🎁
> 
> Title: Not Exactly Scary | Junmyeon & Baekhyun (+ Chanbaek) | Vampire-AU | Rating: PG | Fluff and humor | 2.5k

Baekhyun remembers coming outside to empty the bins from the bar into the dumpster in the alleyway after last call. He’d looked at his watch before he did so because it was nearly 3am. He remembers that much. Everything else after he stepped out the back door until now though… it’s a strangely shimmery blur.

He remembers a pair of dark, enchanting eyes somewhere in that shimmer. A soft voice. A sharp pain at his neck that didn’t really… register… as a true hurt. But then that same set of pinpoints withdraw almost as soon as they’ve latched on. A voice follows, sounding like it has a mouthful of something truly horrid.

“What the hell?”

Baekhyun blinks and the brickwork against his cheek suddenly feels real and solid again. He’s pressed against the dirty wall beside the dumpster. A hand on his shoulder spins him around and Baekhyun can’t find his equilibrium for a moment, staggering against the ripped, faded posters.

There’s a man in front of him, dressed like something out of the Matrix with a long dark coat that brushes the tops of his boots. Baekhyun blinks, trying to make sense of it all. He came out here to empty the bins. He knows he did.

Baekhyun manages a very unhelpful, “Huh?”

The stranger swipes a hand across his mouth and it comes away wet with blood. “What’s wrong with you?” he spits out his mouthful, trying to wipe the rest away with the backs of his fingers. “I’ve never tasted anything like this.”

Baekhyun blinks. “Um,” he supplies dumbly as the last of the lethargy leaves him and only  _then_  does he see the fangs. Two tiny white protrusions that sit snugly behind the man’s lips. He’s a… Baekhyun’s eyes go wide.

“Are you… okay?”

Baekhyun manages a squeak, trying to inch along the wall. “Not really.” He wonders if he has the room to run. He wonders if he’s going to die. He wonders if he’s going to… nope scratch all that, he’s definitely going to pass out. "Shit."

“Hey!” There’s a pressure on his head and Baekhyun is pushed down onto his butt just as his knees give out. The hand keeps pushing, shoving his head down between his upraised knees. “Just take a few deep breaths.”

_I’m insane. I’ve gone mad. I’m…“_ I’m anaemic you idiot.” Baekhyun manages, watching the ground swim about a foot below his nose. He swats the hand off his head. There’s a sudden long _aaahhhh_  of understanding from above him and Baekhyun wants to kick one of the feet that’s in front of his own. It would probably make him fall over flat onto his face but it would make him feel about half an inch better.

“ _That’s_  why you taste awful. You really should get that looked at.”

Baekhyun pulls an incredulous face at the gritty stones. “Are you really telling me to--you were just about to  _eat_ me.”

There’s a long-suffering sigh above his head. “I don’t eat people.”

“You also don’t exist.” Baekhyun tells the nearest foot. It’s in quite a nice boot, if you went by something from about the eighteenth century. “I must have hit my head or something,” he groans. “Because this isn’t real.”

The hand returns, angling Baekhyun’s head from side to side. “Nope, you’re okay. But you really should get something for that condition. Vitamin C. Good to have with meals.”

“Vitamin  _what_ -” Baekhyun manages before he’s hauled to his feet. The vampire dusts him off and grabs one arm.

“That’s actually not a bad idea. I need more band-aids. Come on.”

“What? No I’m not-” is all Baekhyun gets out as the world shifts abruptly to the left in a lurch that makes him feel violently sick. Everything  _vanishes_.

Or rather… they do. Baekhyun opens his eyes and he’s standing… “Are we in a pharmacy?” he hisses, looking frantically around. His head spins.

The vampire lets go of his arm and peers at the shelf they’ve appiarated in front of like something out of fucking Harry Potter. “Shopping centre drugstore,” he murmurs, picking up a small bottle. “Yes, this says it’s good for helping the digestion of iron rich foods. Perfect.”

Baekhyun only now notices that the lights are dimmed. They’re inside the store after hours. “We’re going to get arrested,” he whispers mournfully. “I serve alcohol for a living. I can’t have breaking and entering under my name.”

“Nothing is broken,” the vampire corrects, wandering along until he finds whatever the fuck else he’s after. “Just entering. It’s a grey area.”

Baekhyun vaguely wonders if he’s had a stroke. Smiling cheerfully, the vampire plucks several cardboard boxes off the shelf. Walking back he pockets the contents. Baekhyun gives him an incredulous look because this suddenly seems an important detail in all the crazy.

“Do _not_  steal that.”

The vampire gives him a confused head tilt. “But I don’t carry money,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing In the world.

“You…” Baekhyun makes a frustrated sound. “Of course you don-”

The hand lands on his arm and Baekhyun is yanked bodily through the twisting nether before he can finish his sentence. The moment his feet hit the alley gravel he leans against the wall and tries extremely hard not to throw up. It’s a close call. “Stop  _doing_  that.”

There’s a rustle of pockets and a pale hand places the little bottle of vitamin C on the corner of the dumpster beside Baekhyun’s head as he dry heaves into the garbage. “It says to take two with every meal.” The hand pats Baekhyun’s head lightly. “Be sure to eat lots of iron. I’ll be back in a week to check on you.”

“You’ll be  _what_?” Baekhyun whirls around but he’s the only thing left in the alley. A cat meows somewhere several streets over and Baekhyun staggers back against the dumpster with a faint clang.  _This is… it’s fucking nuts._   _Did he just dream…?_

Pressing a hand to his neck leaves dried flakes of blood on his fingers. His watch reads 5am.

* * *

Baekhyun does his best to convince himself that the events of that night were indeed all the stupidest, craziest hallucination he’s ever had, likely caused by his anaemia going one step too far and causing him to pass out and cut his neck or… something. He tells no one and almost manages it after about a week of not seeing anything peculiar, not hearing a flock of bats or something dracula-esque and finding no sign of the strange… man.

Dragging the heavy bag of food scraps and alcohol-strewn bar litter outside, Baekhyun hauls it up high enough for a good toss into the dumpster. There’s still a few patrons inside and his manager is starting to emerge from his upstairs office to count the takings. Baekhyun lobs the bag into the bin where it crashes with a sharp sound of glass. Out of habit he checks his watch.

“It’s three am.”

Baekhyun trips over the pile of newspapers stacked beside the dumpster. “Holy  _shit_ ,” he spins around so sharply he nearly falls flat on his ass. “Could you _be_  any more creepy?”

The vampire pauses. He’s crouched on the side of the dumpster that has it’s lid closed, knees bent up and his arms resting on them. “Sorry.”

“No you’re not.” Baekhyun grumbles, talking around the pulse that’s jackhammering inside his throat. His hands tremble. “If you were you wouldn’t be lurking like some kind of Van Helsing rejec-you know, why am I even talking to you?” he slams the metal on his side of the container down hard. “You’re not real.”

Stalking back inside he hears a faint voice. It registers just before Baekhyun yanks the door shut.

“My name is-”

Standing inside the door with his hand still on the heavy metal handle, Baekhyun exhales. He clenches his jaw once. Twice. Then he growls and opens the door again, sticking his head out.

“What was it?”

The vampire sitting alone on the dumpster looks up quickly. “Junmyeon.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. He’s pretty sure it’s at himself. “I’m Baekhyun,” he manages. He’s lost his freaking marbles.

Junmyeon smiles. “How’s the blood iron ratio going?”

“Not enough for you to eat.” Baekhyun closes the door again.

* * *

“You should perhaps think about a dietary plan.”

Baekhyun tosses out the trash. “Not happening.”

* * *

“I heard onions were good for your blood. I can get you a cookbook-”

“Nope. Get off the fucking fire escape.”

* * *

“I haven’t been to a doctor in a couple of centuries but I booked you an appointment. You should go. When did they stop using leeches?”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s Wednesday afternoon.”

* * *

“How did it go?”

_Crash. Clang._

“Do you get this involved with all of your meals?”

* * *

It’s mostly the weekends that Baekhyun sees Junmyeon actually inside the bar. When it’s full to capacity and the music is loud, bodies everywhere being silly and drunk and flirty. Baekhyun wonders if he’s seen him before and never really noticed. If his eyes just drifted past him and never registered. He gets the feeling that if Junmyeon doesn’t want you to see him, you most certainly won’t.

The first time Baekhyun goes to the men’s room and sees a guy pressing Junmyeon up against a wall, nuzzling into his neck like two drunk, normal people making out, he freezes. Baekhyun’s not sure what to do. Should he… intervene? He doesn’t want a dead guy on his property for fuck’s sake. But Junmyeon looks over the guy’s shoulder as he bends the man’s head slightly to one side and notices Baekhyun standing there.

He gives a happy little wave behind the guy’s back as he sinks his teeth in and it’s at that point that Baekhyun realises he might have adopted the most endearingly hopeless vampire the world has ever seen. Baekhyun turns on his heel and leaves.

When the guy staggers out twenty minutes later, two fluro Lion King band-aids on his neck and a glazed expression on his face, that solidifies it.

Baekhyun doesn’t see Junmyeon leave but when he goes to clean the bathroom at the end of shift, someone has neatly arranged the towels into the shape of bunnies. Baekhyun cups his face in his hands and hangs his head.

He goes home in the early hours of that morning and googles adorable vampires. He shuts his laptop when all he gets is hentai.

* * *

“You know,” Baekhyun murmurs as he writes, tallying up the receipts in his log book at the end of the night. “I’m beginning to think this whole vicious, dangerous as fuck and stealthy as the shadows narrative  _may_  have been something you skipped in vampire school.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Junmyeon replies, walking past upside down along the ceiling. “I am stealthy.”

Baekhyun snorts at his book and keeps sorting. Junmyeon stops in front of a few framed, historical pictures they have of the bar through the years along one wall. Baekhyun knows it was used for smuggling once which he thinks is pretty cool. Junmyeon makes a thoughtful noise.

“You need a boyfriend.”

Baekhyun totals up one column, not looking up. “You need a hobby.”

“I don’t like seeing you alone.”

“I’m not alone.” Baekhyun piles his stack of receipts up on one side. He glances up at Junmyeon’s upside-down profile. “Unfortunately.”

“I think it’d be good for you.”

Baekhyun switches tack, just to shut him up. “How does your coat not hang down? Like, you should look ridiculous right now.”

“Magic,” Junmyeon replies distractedly, still looking at the picture. “I think I knew this man once,” he says in a thoughtful tone. “Had a really nice horse.”

“Of course you did.” Baekhyun wraps rubber bands around the different piles and puts them behind the bar for the manager in the morning. He taps his finger on the outside of the drawer, hesitating for a moment. But then he decides what the hell. “So I saw the doctor again today before work. He says I shouldn’t need to go on iron supplements if I keep eating a lot of meat.”

“Excellent.” Junmyeon drifts past, patting his head. “Is your doctor cute? He sounded nice on the phone.”

“Shut up or I’m going to start serving food with garlic in it.”

“So he  _is_.”

* * *

“You don’t normally leave this early.”

“What are you, my mother?” Baekhyun stacks the shot glasses that three patrons have left strewn over the bartop with one hand, shrugging into his jacket one-armed. He should have been out of here half an hour ago but they had become busy. “Minseok is covering the last of my shift. Don’t you dare go near him.”

Junmyeon is lounging on a stool, elbows on the bar, looking out at the drifting mass of humanity. He leans his head back to look at Baekhyun upside down. “So who asked who out?” he asks eagerly, eyebrows wiggling.

Baekhyun shoves the glasses into the small sink they have under the bar. Reaching out he pushes Junmyeon’s head back to facing forward. “None of your business.”

“Maybe I should come along-”

“No.”

“-and if he’s not nice I could eat him.”

“You don’t eat people, remember?”

Junmyeon pulls a face at Baekhyun’s logic. “Fine.” He stands up as a tipsy woman in a short dress slides closer along the bar and plonks herself next to him. Junmyeon takes the hand she extends and trails a finger along the veins in her wrist. She goes soft and pliant. Baekhyun tugs the jacket up his other arm, checking the time. It’s already half past seven.

“Shit. I’m so late. Okay,  _behave_  while I’m gone.”

“Where is it?” Junmyeon asks, removing his hand from the woman who shakes herself like she just woke up put of the strangest dream. Baekhyun is only half listening, patting himself down for his keys.

“What? Boulevard square,” he mutters. “I need to get a taxi. He’s going to think I stood him up-”

“Oh that’s easy.” Junmyeon reaches out and Baekhyun is too distracted to notice or dodge until Junmyeon snags his wrist and everything around him  _whirls_.

Which is how Chanyeol’s very first impression of meeting Baekhyun outside the clinic is hearing him suddenly yell  _fuck!_  very loudly and vehemently from around a corner Chanyeol could have sworn was empty two seconds before.

Thankfully the date goes far better from then on. Even if a black cat does perch outside the window of the restaurant the whole time, keeping guard.

* * *


	9. This is stupid - I'm in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini-fic #4 from the fluffy Bingo prompts on tumblr for my birthday month.
> 
> 🎁 This is stupid - I'm in 🎁
> 
> Title: Taking The Plunge | Chanbaek | Graduation-AU | Rating: G | Fluff | 2k

“Chanyeol. Come on.  _Please_?”

“No. This is-I can’t even begin to tell you how crazy this is.”

“Yeollie…”

Chanyeol puts his little red cup of beer down onto the table crowded with about a hundred others -good luck finding it again- and takes Baekhyun by the shoulders. “The cat is fine. I promise.”

Baekhyun squints up at him, face pink and adorable and probably tipsy enough that he’s seeing double. “No it’s not. It’s not. Who would be if they were up there all alone?”

“It’s probably because of the loud music,” Chanyeol tries, sweeping a hand out at the graduation party in full swing around them. “It’s likely scared.”

Baekhyun pouts. “But it’s so fluffy. And tiny.”

“And likely to scratch your hand to shreds if you try to pick it up.” Chanyeol turns Baekhyun around and pushes him back towards the couch where all of them have been sitting for the latter part of the evening. The villa they’ve borrowed from Jongin's parents for the occasion is stunning and the lounge room offers a beautiful view out into the enclosed square courtyard with its pool and huge, fairylight-strewn tree in the centre. Which is where Baekhyun first noticed the cat.

Baekhyun flops dramatically down onto the couch and ends up sprawled half across Jongdae’s legs. Chanyeol leaves him there and goes to find a replacement beer instead of hazarding trying to guess his last one. He has the hardest time saying no to Baekhyun usually but this time… he’s putting his foot down. This is the last night they’ll all have together in a long time before they all go their separate ways and Chanyeol doesn’t want to spoil it with having to call an ambulance because the unspoken love of his life has fallen from a tree and hit his head.

Chanyeol fishes a beer from one of the coolers dotted about the kitchen and looks for a clean cup. He’d even considered telling Baekhyun how he felt tonight but as the hours slipped past and they all danced and played pong and hung out… the more Chanyeol chickened out. They’d gone all these years without him ever plucking the courage to say anything. Tonight was… it didn’t seem fair. So Chanyeol nurses his bruised heart and tells himself that it’s for the best. If it were meant to be he’d have found the guts to confess before now.

Meandering back into the lounge room Chanyeol considers asking Baekhyun for a dance. The music is awful but it has a beat steady enough that even in their not-entirely-sober state they could probably not make a mess of it. And Baekhyun might even hold his hands one last time, like he loves to do whenever Chanyeol makes him do anything.

_Yeollie… come with me. I don’t want to be alone. No you’re in this too. Best friends forever and all that stupid shit._

So yeah, maybe a dance. Just one more. And then Chanyeol will call it quits. He scans the room as he enters it, trying to find the five foot firecracker and…

“Where’s Baekhyun?” Chanyeol smacks Sehun’s leg who was sitting with Jongdae when he left. Sehun, probably quicker to get drunk than the rest of them thanks to being in possession of the quickest metabolism, just shrugs happily. Chanyeol puts a pillow under his head and shuffles him onto his side slightly so if he throws up it’s not going to be dangerous. Then he looks for Jongdae.

Which isn’t necessary because Jongdae appears at his elbow within half a second. “We have a situation.”

Which is only ever code for Baekhyun. Chanyeol’s skin runs cold. “What did he do?”

Jongdae latches on and drags him over to the window. “I tried to stop him, I did. But he really, really wants to do it.”

“Fuck,” Chanyeol breathes, looking out the thin pane of glass to the figure slowly climbing the massive tree outside. There’s a crowd down around the pool, all yelling the drunken equivalent of encouragement and Chanyeol pushes past Jongdae who worriedly tries to hold him back too.

“We can get Minseok, he’s good at this shit.”

“No,” Chanyeol dumps his bottle and shrugs off his outer shirt, handing it to Jongdae. Less things to get snagged. “I can handle it. Leave him to me.”

He sprints outside, shoving through the watching crowd who are unhelpfully trying to cheer Baekhyun on. When he gets to the bottom he sees just how many fairy lights are twined around the trunk, extending all the way up into the branches that overhang the pool. It’s beautiful and stupidly dangerous. Chanyeol finds a handhold and hoists himself up.

“Baekhyun!”

Baekhyun glances down, detaching a hand to wave and Chanyeol nearly has a heart attack when he starts to overbalance.

“No, no! Just… stay the fuck there. Stop climbing.”

Miraculously Baekhyun does. He waits patiently amongst the branches as Chanyeol curses and climbs up to meet him.  _Thank god_. Chanyeol goes steadily, hand over hand, trying not to crush any of the million little bulbs. It seems to take forever and the branches get scarily thinner the higher he climbs but when they’re finally eye level Baekhyun looks thrilled to see him.

“Coming with me?”

“No you idiot,” Chanyeol huffs. “I’m taking you down. Come on.”

Baekhyun shakes his head, batting away the hand Chanyeol tries to reach him with. “No we need to rescue the cat!”

“The damn cat got itself up here, it can get down too,” Chanyeol grits out. “Now come on, please. Come down with me.”

Baekhyun looks torn. He usually always does what Chanyeol says, following him around like a puppy unless he has his mind set firmly on something else. Which… shit. Now seems to be one of those times. Baekhyun points up above their heads.

“Just look, Yeollie.”

Chanyeol looks, because apparently neither of them are sensible tonight. The cat sits, clinging to the end of the branch, fur completely on end and eyes wide.

“It’s really afraid. It’s stuck.”

Chanyeol exhales loudly. “That branch won’t hold your weight Baek. You know it won’t.”

Baekhyun makes a frustrated sound but then his eyes flick to Chanyeol. “It will if you hold me.”

“If I what?”

“If you hold onto me and I reach out. You can be my anchor.”

Chanyeol mentally curses whatever deity is out there that he grew up with zero willpower to one Byun Baekhyun when he’s being remotely logical. He shifts his hold on the branch next to him, inches around over onto one that looks semi-solid and glances down. They’re a good story off the ground and if they fall there’s a fifty-fifty chance they might make the pool below. A slim set of fingers close over Chanyeol’s own.

“Please?”

Chanyeol pulls a face. “If I die I’m going to haunt your ass until the end of time.”

Baekhyun grins. “That’s an excuse, you just want this ass in general.”

And Chanyeol nearly swallows his tongue because he’s not technically  _wrong_. Baekhyun pauses for a second and then squeezes Chanyeol’s hand.

“Hold onto me?”

Chanyeol recovers enough to pull his hand back and slap Baekhyun’s leg where it’s curled around the trunk. “Fine, just make it quick. And if it mauls you we’re leaving it’s fluffy butt up here.”

“It’s not going to do that.” Baekhyun turns and inches out along the branch, using his grip on the trunk to steady himself. “Are you little baby?”

Chanyeol immediately grabs hold of Baekhyun’s waist, wedging a foot between his own branch and it’s gnarly attachment to the trunk. He hooks his other leg as best he can between all the fairy lights and tries to stay steady as Baekhyun stretches out an arm.

“C’mere sweetie pie,” Baekhyun croons, wiggling his outstretched fingers and Chanyeol snorts. “Don’t mind this big dumb brute behind me. He doesn’t think you’re as lovely as I do.”

Chanyeol can feel the strain on his arms as Baekhyun uncouples his handhold and uses both arms to reach out, belly almost flat on the branch. “Make it quick…”

“Don’t listen to him darling.” Baekhyun offers a finger to the terrified cat to sniff at. “He’s just grumpy.”

“I am not.”

“Yes he is.” Baekhyun continues with the cutesy tone and if it weren’t life or death Chanyeol would  _so_  drop him right now. “He’s been off all night. Yes he has.”

The branch under Chanyeol’s foot creaks ominously. He adjusts his hold on Baekhyun’s waist, locking his knees. Several of the tiny globes have come loose and are now dangling around them. “Baek-”

“He’s being a mopey baby because he doesn’t know.” Baekhyun continues to warble, stroking the cat with that same finger, inching his hand carefully around it’s body. “No he doesn’t. Yeah that’s right, come here schnookums. He doesn’t know I’m going to ask him out tonight.”

“You’re  _what_ -” The branch he's bracing on snaps in two with a dreadful crack and Chanyeol topples off, dropping the entire distance to land into the pool below with a splash that cascades off the sides and onto the crowd. He shoves his feet against the pool floor and shoots straight back up, breaching the surface in horror at what he’ll find.  _Did Baekhyun fall too? Fuck. Is he okay? Is the stupid cat hurt?_

Chanyeol flicks the chlorine-filled water out of his eyes and they burn as he blinks up, hearing the crowd cheering like morons which he supposes they wouldn’t do if-

Baekhyun lowers himself slowly down the branches, the cat cradled in the crook of one arm. He navigates the tree’s limbs until they end and then jumps the last of the way down, placing the cat onto the grass where it zooms off into the bushes.

Chanyeol is going to kill him. No one will ever find the body he theorises furiously as he swims for the shallow end with long strokes. By the time he gets there Baekhyun is squatting at the edge, waiting for him.

Chanyeol slops a sopping wet arm onto the tiles, holding himself still and glaring up at Baekhyun who reaches out a hand and pushes Chanyeol’s wet hair off his forehead.

“So what do you say?”

Chanyeol grabs the hand and yanks Baekhyun into the pool.

When he surfaces spluttering a moment later Chanyeol hauls his buoyant form in front of him, pinning him back between the edge of the pool tiles and himself, bracketing with both arms.

“Were you serious?” Chanyeol is still breathing heavily from both the fall and the panic and he knows he sounds a little wild but he holds Baekhyun’s gaze with his own as best he can. Because he _has_ to find out so badly he burns with it. They’ve both known each other for too long to be messing with this. “With what you said?”

Baekhyun pushes his hair back from his face, swiping the droplets from his eyes with his fingers. He bobs there, the water shallow enough for both of them to stand if they wanted to but it’s somehow quieter down here to float, away from all the eyes of everyone else. The dancing surface reflections bounce off Baekhyun’s cheekbones and the hollow of his throat as he swallows, whispering. “Yeah. I mean it’s probably the most foolish idea-”

“We’re both going to be going to college next year,” Chanyeol agrees quietly. Baekhyun’s eyes drift down to his lips.

“And I’ll be moving interstate for it so we won’t be able to see each other that much. But I could… I could drive.”

“And I’ll have the extra classes with my music scholarship,” Chanyeol murmurs, sliding a hand around Baekhyun’s waist under the water. “My schedule is going to be packed but I’d make time…”

Baekhyun’s dripping hands come to rest on Chanyeol’s shoulders. “So I know it’s probably crazy but I should have done this years ago and I don’t know why I didn’t and-”

“This is stupid,” Chanyeol breathes, floating closer until their faces are nearly touching. “I’m in.”

* * *


	10. Brave Bunny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini-fic #5 from the fluffy Bingo prompts on tumblr for my birthday month.
> 
> 🎁 Coffeeshop AU 🎁
> 
> Title: Brave Bunny | Krisho | Coffeeshop-AU (hybrid AU) | Rating: G | Fluff | 3.3k

Junmyeon comes to know the man with the hazel wolf eyes. And just as surely Junmyeon knows he should stay away from him. Bunnies do not mix with wolves. Not unless they want to get torn to shreds.

However this particular wolf seems to have taken a liking to him which should perhaps terrify Junmyeon in some fashion, but he’s always been a stubborn hybrid and it’s probably that trait which gets him into trouble more times than most. Bunnies should be docile. It’s in their nature; it’s how centuries of breeding has led them to behave, to develop characteristics that Junmyeon loathes.

The trembling when he’s afraid is one of them. Junmyeon shakes from head to foot and glares at the pack who have stumbled in off the street reeking of pheromones and seeking the warmth of the tiny café. They leer at him, all three of them, making obscene gestures and Junmyeon stands behind the counter, trapped and forced to endure their loud comments about his soft, floppy ears and whether he has a matching white tail under his pants. Dickheads.

They close in around the counter, dressed in their stupid knockoff leather jackets that look like they came from a thrift store and black gloves with the fake semi-solid spikes on them. Junmyeon narrows his eyes and hates everything about them. But he forces himself to speak politely.

“What can I get you?”

The tallest of the three has an eyebrow ring and Junmyeon wants ever so badly to yank it out. The wolf sneers and ignores the big menu behind Junmyeon, instead raking his eyes over the bunny hybrid like he’s sizing up a meal. His sharp grey ears are perked forward with interest. “Whadda ya offering?”

Junmyeon grits his teeth, locking every muscle he has to keep the trembling at bay. Fuck his instincts around predator animals. “What’s on the menu behind me,” he shoots back firmly. “So pick something or leave.”

The second reaches out a lazy hand, swiping at Junmyeon’s apron just as the door chime tinkles behind him. “Don’t be such a prude. We’re only having fun.”

And Junmyeon knows that. He knows how good he smells to these idiots, how much he radiates a  soft pheromone cloud that makes everyone think of warmth and food and companionship. It’s why so many bunnies were in hospitality these days. But it also draws the worst out in assholes who can’t control their baser instincts. Junmyeon isn’t a plaything. He’s here to work and if only he could stop  _shaking_ like a leaf… He shoots the pack a dirty look.

“I don’t care. Order or get the hell out. I don’t have time for games.”

The third cackles, slapping his companions on the backs. He’s bigger than the rest. “Look at him being so brave! Oh jesus it’s cute. He’s about to pass out.”

Junmyeon’s hands have clenched into fists and he tries to keep his voice steady. The coffeeshop is otherwise empty at this hour of the morning and because Junmyeon often works alone there’s not even anyone he can call on if these three decide to make a fuss.

“You heard him,” a voice says from behind the pack. “Yang, Jo, Hahn, back the fuck down.”

The three men turn sharply as a fourth appears, dressed just the same and okay… that must have been who walked in a second ago. Junmyeon had been too preoccupied to notice. The wolf is big like the rest, far taller than Junmyeon and as he stalks around the group they hunch at just his words. Junmyeon realises with a sinking feeling that he knows what it means.

“Alpha,” Junmyeon mutters respectfully, averting his eyes. Every wolf pack has one and _this_  one looks angry. His sleek black ears are pinned back on the top of his head, eyes narrowed. But just as Junmyeon expects to really have the worst day of his life the man turns on his companions.

“You bunch of fucking useless betas.” The alpha’s voice drops into a growl and anger rolls off him in hot, billowing waves. “Didn’t your sires teach you any  _respect_?”

Each brute ducks as if the words are actual physical blows and in a world of strict pack hierarchy they might as well be. Three on one and they all behave like they just got kicked in the metaphorical balls which is nothing short of astonishing to watch. They've fucked up big time and if their alpha knows them by name there will certainly be formal repercussions. Junmyeon keeps his head down so that no one can see how shocked and pleased he is at that thought.

“ _Out._  Now.”

There’s the sound of multiple boots clunking heavily towards the door and Junmyeon takes his first full breath of the last fifteen minutes as they leave, feeling his whole chest expand wearily. But then a hand closes around his chin and Junmyeon’s breathing  _stops_.

His face is raised and Junmyeon is forced to look up into a pair of striking hazel eyes. His heart does a weird twisty thing as they narrow.

“Are you okay?”

Junmyeon can see the decorations on the black glove in his peripheral vision. The hand angles his face from side to side with surprising gentleness as its owner continues, “Did they hurt you?”

Junmyeon’s own floppy ears are still flat with fear and the man’s other hand comes up, trying to lift the white ears into a happier perk. Junmyeon is too afraid to speak, not sure what’s quite going on. Did this wolf save him only to mess with Junmyeon himself? The man’s mouth drops into a disappointed twist.

“They really did a number on you huh?”

That’s what brings Junmyeon back to himself. “I-I’m fine.” With a wrench he pulls himself away, leaning back so the counter is more firmly between them. Immediately the wolf holds up both hands and a trace of pheromones fill the air. The small room smells of dark, heady forest. Junmyeon blinks. Is he… trying to  _calm_  him? Junmyeon lifts one ear very slowly.

The man smiles. “That’s better. You’re going to be okay. Go sit down for a while.”

Bunnies are prone to fainting. Another thing Junmyeon hates with a passion. But he realises that his legs are probably on the verse of atrophying from all the panic so he sinks onto the stool he has nearby for quiet times without customers. _Just for a moment_ , he tells himself. The wolf looks pleased and stalks over to take a table by the entranceway. He sits down and rests his crossed arms on the wood, leaning his chin on them to keep Junmyeon in view. At first Junmyeon thinks he’s just giving him space but as he slowly gets his pulse under control and watches the other man in silence, he sees those black ears flick back and forth occasionally as he listens to the noise on the street.

Guarding, Junmyeon realises with a start. He’s guarding the door.

Junmyeon doesn’t quite know what to do with that information. No one has ever… Well he knows of predator species who are _hired_  to be bodyguards to famous prey hybrids, but that’s work. They take pheromone blockers and everything to make sure their instincts are properly controlled. They’re professionals. Junmyeon knows with the scent he keeps picking up that this guy most certainly isn’t on any blockers. The whole shop smells like territorial alpha. Junmyeon is going to need to air the whole fucking place after he leaves.

Which speaking of… Junmyeon knows this will apparently only happen once the wolf thinks he’s okay. So folding his hands in his lap Junmyeon follows the breathing exercises he knows are good for calming his stupid instincts. It’s a little hard when he’s being watched but he manages it after a long battle with whether or not to close his eyes. (He just can’t.) Time ticks by and it seems like this guy has nothing better to do than ensure Junmyeon is feeling okay which is all kinds of ridiculous. But Junmyeon rolls with it because this day couldn’t get any more weirder.

Finally after what feels like way too long to be appropriate, Junmyeon is no longer trembling and he feels steady enough to speak without tripping over his words.

“Who are you?”

One sharp ear flicks away from the street towards him. “Kris.”

Junmyeon nods slowly, wiping his hands on his apron. “Kris. I’m Junmyeon. Thank you for…”  _saving me_. Junmyeon has never used that phrase in his life. He hates the weakness it implies. “…helping. I really appreciate it.”

Kris lifts his head from the little perch he’s made for himself and now that he’s not terrified Junmyeon wants to kick himself for the random thought that runs across his brain that okay, he’s actually kind of handsome under all that eyeliner and leather. (So sue him, Junmyeon knows he shouldn’t be looking but he’s not blind.)

And this wolf has actually gone out of his way to help him. Junmyeon is more practiced than most at telling his societal instincts to take a back seat and he does so now, giving the guy a curious once over out of the corner of his eye. He’s tall and broad and for some reason able to pull off the popped collar on his jacket that should have been just as pathetic as the boys from earlier. But Kris makes it work. Which mildly unnerves Junmyeon because he _shouldn’t_  be looking at a wolf and noticing this. If bunnies occupied positions of entertainment and hospitality then wolves dealt in bloodshed and violence. There was a place in society for all hybrids and never should the any of the lines cross. Junmyeon knows this like his life depends on it because more often than not it does. Wolves picked up the work no one else wanted with a fierceness and pack mentality that made them experts at it.

Which means Kris is dangerous. And in a position of power that unequivocally means he had to kill to get there. But for all that  Junmyeon is incredibly, helplessly struck by Kris’ eyes. So hard and sharp when he walked in, they were twin pinpoints of anger directed at the rudeness of his pack. Now though… they’re golden. Which is something Junmyeon has never seen before.

Kris sees him staring because he smirks, pushing up to stand. Junmyeon immediately hops off his stool and fusses with the rows of paper cups on the countertop just for something to do. He can stand. He’s not defenceless. The wolf needs to know this.

But Kris doesn’t approach the counter again like Junmyeon expects him to. Instead he saunters over to the front door and opens it. Pausing there he seems to hesitate and Junmyeon can’t figure out why. Wolves never hesitate. Finally Kris seems to come to a decision in his head because he looks back at Junmyeon.

“You look prettier with your ears up like that.”

Junmyeon immediately looks away, feeling a wash of heat from head to foot. He can feel his ears twitch, self-conscious at the complement because he _has_  relaxed enough to have both of them up without realising it and Kris laughs. It’s a dark sound and should be cold, but Junmyeon shivers at it.

“See you around, brave bunny.”

Kris leaves, closing the door quietly behind himself. Junmyeon waits until his silhouette passes by the windows and then sinks down and thunks his head on the counter.

* * *

Junmyeon is knee-deep in before-class coffee orders, totalling them up as fast as he can and then getting to work on making each cup, flicking back and forth between the two with a speed that slowly becomes almost hypnotic. Cash order, start coffee, swap back and cash another, flip back and top first order off, start second, back to the register, tally up the third, hand out the first cup, go back and start the third, topping off the second. It’s calming in its repetition and Junmyeon loves it.

So when he bounces back to the register and asks for the next customer’s order he’s already hovering a hand over the touch screen when the answer makes him freeze.

“Black coffee, no sugar.”

Junmyeon flicks his eyes up, still as a statue before he makes the conscious decision to force his muscles to move again. Because he knows that voice. Not trusting himself to speak, Junmyeon silently tallies up the order with fingers that are actually steady, surprised beyond belief that he didn’t  _smell_ Kris before he got this close. But when he tries to subtly scent the air there’s not a single trace of the woodsy pheromones that Junmyeon may have spent _far_  too long trying to forget. And most certainly not think about when he was in bed because his traitorous brain doesn’t see wolf, it sees handsome. So Kris had taken blockers today. Was he… working?

Kris smiles when Junmyeon doesn’t speak. “Hi bunny,” he coaxes, tone mild.

Junmyeon almost drops the coffee he has already in his hand for the customer ahead of Kris, managing to stutter out an apology as he fumbles it over. Shooting a look at Kris, Junmyeon clears his throat. Those damn eyes.

“Five fifty.”

Kris calmly hands over the exact cash, tucking his gloved hands into his pockets as he sidles over to make room for the person behind him and Junmyeon curses how hyper fucking aware he is of the wolf’s presence in the room when it’s full of squirming, harried customers. He tries to recover his soothing rhythm from before but he can _feel_  Kris watching and that throws him. Junmyeon curses everything.  _Focus._

Kris doesn’t help matters by being perfectly docile, standing there quietly like every other customer. It makes Junmyeon itch from head to toe in nervous curiosity. To everyone else Kris just looks like any other wolf but Junmyeon can see as he flicks out little glances while he starts the drink that there’s a bulge at Kris’ waist, breaking the line of his leather jacket. He’s armed. Whatever he’s doing, it’s official today. Pack business perhaps? Junmyeon finds he actually wants to know, but there’s too many people around for him to smoothly ask  _so hey, why are you packing heat?_

Junmyeon takes the next order, returns to the dark coffee that’s finally finished dripping from the filter and caps it off. He starts the next order, returns to the register and quietly holds the plastic-lined paper cup out to Kris. Junmyeon intends for that to be the end of it; to turn away and move on but that goes to shit when Kris’ fingers brush his.

Kris says nothing, poker-faced and cold - but his ears perk forward happily. It almost makes Junmyeon laugh because it’s so unexpected a contrast and he’s so startled that his own ears pop up, just the tips flopping over.

Now Kris smiles. Reaching out he brushes a finger under Junmyeon’s slack-jawed chin, turning away with a wink and a  _thanks, bunny._

Junmyeon messes up his orders for the first time that day, mind going a million miles an hour. One of his regulars comments that Junmyeon smells particularly soft and it startles him so much that he doesn’t know quite what to do with himself.

* * *

It happens again. And again.

Junmyeon finally can’t take it any more after a week of what becomes this routine. Kris comes in, orders a plain black coffee with no milk or sugar, looks like he’s just checking that Junmyeon is happy and well, sometimes renders Junmyeon speechless with his gentler side and then leaves again silently. It’s driving Junmyeon up the wall.

“This is the most boring coffee order ever!” he shoves it at Kris on about the tenth day of doing this. “Don’t you have tastebuds? We have a million varieties here.”

“Oh,” Kris looks down at the cup in his hands. He’s mistimed his arrival in the morning rush and it’s quieter today. “Uh…” He pulls both his lips into his mouth and stares down at the universe’s dullest coffee. Junmyeon cocks an ear and waits. His question seems to have caught the wolf off guard. Finally.

Kris huffs out an embarrassed laugh and Junmyeon’s  _second_  ear goes up because he’s never heard Kris laugh before. Or seen him anything other than suave and in control. It’s… nice. Kris rubs the back of his head, shuffling on the spot before he places the coffee back down on the counter. He’s not taken blockers today and his scent is incredibly warm. Junmyeon has been trying so hard not to react to it since Kris walked in.

“What?” Junmyeon looks between it and it’s owner. “You don’t want it now?”

“No, I-” Kris makes a funny little sound and his own black ears are drooped slightly, twitchy with… Junmyeon squints. Is he  _nervous?_  “I uh. I don’t drink coffee. Normally. So I don’t know what to get.”

Junmyeon can’t help it. He guffaws. Kris shoots him a sharp look and Junmyeon coughs, trying to settle down but jesus fuck this is funny. “You… you don’t-then why the hell have you been buying them every day?”

The gold tinge is back in Kris’ eyes as he flicks them back to Junmyeon. Then they skitter away. “To see you.” Kris finally squeezes out, looking like he’s dragging the words from somewhere deep inside that were never meant to see the light of day. He drops his gaze back to the coffee cup. He pokes the styrofoam lid with a finger. “To check on you.”

Oh this is… this is too cute. Junmyeon feels awash with heat because the whole shop smells of Kris’ sincerity, drifting off him in waves that he can’t control. He’s genuine. Junmyeon breathes it in and tries to dial down just how badly his brain itches to respond to that because he rather stupidly wants to throw caution to the wind and pick up what Kris is offering but he… he shouldn’t.

Wolves don’t take care of bunnies. Both of them know this as firmly as breathing. Hybrid relationships outside of their own kind are… they’re complicated. So Junmyeon smiles politely at Kris’ nervous face and he can  _see_  his ears which have been perked forward attentively droop the longer Junmyeon doesn’t respond. The wolf goes from alpha to kicked puppy in a gradual move that makes Junmyeon realise that Kris has really, really put his cards on the table here. Junmyeon wonders if anyone else has ever seen him this vulnerable. The weapon at his hip suggests not.

And that’s what cuts deepest. Kris looks like he’s thinking that this might have been one big mistake and Junmyeon can see him retreating, shoring back up inside that cold shell, the one that leads and kills and washes blood off his hands at the end of a long day and Junmyeon is probably a little too soft to deal with that world right away but if there’s one thing Junmyeon has never been it’s conventional. And if this had even the slightest chance in hell of working… Junmyeon reaches out and taps his finger on top of the one Kris still has on the cup.

“Did… did you want to try another flavour?” Junmyeon tries to convey everything he’s thinking with his scent and his words even if he can’t say them out loud just yet. He’s trembling. “I don’t know if you’ll like it and there’s a big chance that it might not work out, but…” He raises one hopeful ear, cocking his head to the side. “It might be worth a try?”

Kris looks down at him and a puff of happy pheromones envelop Junmyeon like the warmest blanket. He nods, all dark leather and spikes and things Junmyeon doesn’t understand yet. But if he gets the chance to… Junmyeon would perhaps like to learn.

Kris takes Junmyeon’s hand in his, hesitant and so sweet. “Yeah,” he says softly. His eyes are the richest gold Junmyeon has ever seen. “I’d like to try.”

Junmyeon smiles and Kris looks a little awed because he shakes his head, reaching out to stroke a finger down one white ear.

“My brave bunny.”

* * *


	11. Kaisoo Day ‘19 mini fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr anon: Happy Kaisoo Day! Do you have anything cute for today?

“It’s too big!” Kyungsoo swats at Jongin’s hands as he tries to tug the sweater over his head, but his laughter tapers the edge off his reprimand.

“It’s cold outside,” Jongin retorts calmly, tugging until Kyungsoo’s head pops through the neck of the tan, fluffy material, hair sticking out in tiny tufts. “I want you to stay warm.”

Kyungsoo aims a look over the tops of his glasses. “I have my own jumpers.”

“I know.” Jongin lifts first one arm and then the other, slipping them through the sleeves like Kyungsoo is a child, moving Kyungsoo’s limbs in a way only he could get away with. Anyone else would have received a sharp hit by now and Jongin exercises his privilege with great glee. “But I like seeing you in my clothes.”

Kyungsoo glances down at the hem of the oversized garment falls deeply below his waist. “I look ridiculous.”

“No.” Jongin smooths his hands out across Kyungsoo’s shoulders and down his arms like he so often loves to do. He stops and circles both of Kyungsoo’s wrists with his hands. “You look like you’re mine.”

Kyungsoo pouts. “Is there an exchange date? Can I return my boyfriend to the store and pick a less possessive model?”

“Shush,” Jongin grins. “You love it. Don’t even try to pretend otherwise.” He sidles closer and slips his hands away from Kyungsoo’s own, converging where Kyungsoo’s dark jeans are buttoned. He flicks at the fastening and Kyungsoo jumps.

“Wait-“

Jongin smirks, pressing them both together chest to chest as he drags the zipper down, hands hidden between their bodies. Kyungsoo grips Jongin’s biceps and sharply glances around his shoulder; they’re due to meet the waiting studio van in ten minutes. They don’t have time—

With a look that plainly says he knows exactly what Kyungsoo is worrying about, Jongin leans close and puts his mouth beside Kyungsoo’s burning ear. “You’ve got a dirty mind,” he purrs in the silky tone he usually reserves for moaning Kyungsoo’s name. “I’m just trying to help.”

And with that he peels the sides of Kyungsoo’s jeans down, grabs the long hem of the jumper and stuffs it behind Kyungsoo’s jeans, tucking it in. Kyungsoo slams his eyes shut and huffs a laugh.

“I hate you.”

Jongin’s laugh is light and happy. “You love me,” he singsongs.

Kyungsoo opens his eyes to roll them, reaching up to grab Jongin by a tuft of hair at the back of his head. Sinking his fingers in he locks on and gives a small tug. Jongin’s eyes raise in a coy look. He still has eyeliner smudged in the corner of one from last night’s performance.

“You’re right.” Kyungsoo tugs him down and presses their mouths together, kissing Jongin firmly. He pulls away only to look him in the eye. “I do.”

Jongin smiles brightly and finishes tucking Kyungsoo in, making sure to give him a proud pat on the butt when he’s done dressing him. He tugs the hem into place so it drapes artfully over the waistband.

Kyungsoo looks down at himself once more. The sleeves still hang a little long against his wrists and the lines of the shoulders drape way past his own. He laughs at the picture he makes, despite himself. “Do you think anyone will notice?” He pushes a sleeve up but it softly, comically rolls right back down.

Jongin shakes his head, dropping a light kiss on Kyungsoo’s temple as he herds him out with an arm thrown around his shoulder. “Not a chance.”

* * *

 

 


	12. Jongin Day ‘19 mini fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr anon: Hi Misun!! HAPPY JONGIN DAY❤️do you have anything cute in mind for today?

The live is barely finished and the adorable cake set aside when Kyungsoo barges in, the door to Jongin’s room flying open.

“I knew it!”

Jongin pauses, his hand with the darkened phone still hovering in the air from where he’s about to plug it in on his bedside table. “Knew what?”

Kyungsoo strides over to the bed and picks the thin blue ribbon up, dangling it’s silky length in one hand. In his other he holds his own dormant phone which Jongin supposes is what he watched the broadcast on. He still doesn’t get the reference. Kyungsoo drops onto the side of the mattress and loops the ribbon back around Jongin’s neck.

“You always swore you couldn’t tie a bow backwards.”

And then Jongin gets it. He smiles slowly, placing his phone on the little nearby table and leaning back on both arms. The move stretches the end of the ribbon in Kyungsoo’s grip until it’s almost straight. “But hyung,” Jongin whines softly, drawing the honorific out until it sounds dirty. “I liked you doing it for me best.”

Kyungsoo goes pink. His flushed expression, caught halfway between reproachful and hopelessly endeared, says Jongin will learn tonight just how many things you can tie up in a bow. Jongin feels the length go taut and his heartbeat kicks up a notch.

Happy birthday indeed.

__


	13. Rome mini fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr anon: Is it selfish that I want more seho stuff from you? Not just your AU but anything. I feel like they’re under-loved in fandom.

Junmyeon knows he packed his case himself. He knows it with every fibre of his being. Because it’s his own suitcase for the trip so of  **course** he did. Which is why when he sets it atop the small stand in his hotel room in Rome and opens it he’s… confused.

Sehun always picks up on the fifth ring. He’s compulsive like that.

“Hyung?”

Junmyeon pauses, trying to collect his words as they bumble around his head. “Sehunnie, did you… repack my suitcase?”

The silence on the other end speaks volumes. Sehun never was able to lie easily. He finally, quietly replies. “Maybe?”

“These are… half of them are your clothes.”

“And?”

Junmyeon laughs into the phone pressed to his cheek. “Why is your wardrobe in my case instead of my own clothes?”

There’s no pause this time.

“Because you’re in Italy without me. And you’re going to take those really dorky photos for your instagram account.”

“That’s… not really an answer.”

“Yes it is.” Sehun has that my-hyungs-are-dense tone going on. “Your photos aren’t going to have me in them. I know that. But I can still show the world you’re mine.”

And Junmyeon with a flash of heat from head to toe… gets it. He bites his lip and runs a hand through the fluffy collar of the bomber jacket on top. “You’re so possessive.”

“You’re making me sleep alone,” is the immediate retort.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Sehun exhales, petulant. “I miss you.”

“I know. I miss you too.”

“Wear them for me? Then I can log on and see you in my clothes?”

Junmyeon lifts the jacket up. Underneath is Sehun’s patch-strewn duffel bag. And below that a familiar lambs-wool coat. There’s even a beanie and a pair of sunglasses. “Yeah,” he says fondly. “Okay.”

Sehun makes a happy sound. Junmyeon smirks into the phone.

“You owe me a wish.”

Sehun’s voice is deep and dark. “Anything you want.”

* * *

  
  


 


	14. Someone Call The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AFF subscriber milestone winning prompt - "Doctor/patient AU"
> 
> Title: Someone Call The Doctor | Chanbaek | Doctor/patient AU | Rating: PG | Fluff | 4.7k

The last time Baekhyun can remember feeling _this_ bad was when Jongdae had thrown his thank-god-we-survived-finals weekend bender at his uncle’s house... and even then Baekhyun is vaguely sure he cured his hangover with hair of the dog or something. Because this? Right now? Is officially worse than a hangover and there’s absolutely nothing Baekhyun can do about it. He’s tried. Holy shit has he tried.

Which is why Minseok is now dragging him into the emergency walk-in section of the hospital after midnight, Baekhyun half-stumbling as he’s hunched over a bucket (which is a little pointless as he’s been up-chucking his stomach contents for the last four days any time he tries to eat or drink and there’s nothing left at this point except a pitiful amount of bile that he occasionally emits, but boy is he still retching like he willingly wants to give up a lung).

The nurse at the intake desk gives Baekhyun a professionally sympathetic once-over as Minseok rattles off the symptoms. Can’t keep any food down. Stomach cramps. Ever-present nausea. Yes he has a fever. Sometimes chills. No he’s not on any medication. Hasn’t been able to drink any water for several days despite their best efforts. The nurse jots this down, triages Baekhyun and fetches him a disolvable anti-nausea tablet to put under his tongue while he waits to be called. Then she waves them to a seat and accepts the next patient in line.

Baekhyun curls up miserably on one of the hard chairs and Minseok very generously lets him tip sideways once the tablet dissolves and Baekhyun is no longer in danger of heaving on their shoes to rest his aching head on Minseok’s lap. It helps a little bit because Baekhyun is almost beside himself at this point. He’s sure it’s some kind of result from when everyone went out for sushi last Thursday night. It’s the final thing Baekhyun can remember eating before the symptoms hit him like a freight train. No one else came down with it though, so either he’s way over-sensitive to certain raw fish or he’s the unluckiest guy out there and picked up a stomach bug.

Time slows to a crawl in the waiting room, full to the brim at this ungodly hour with screaming, distressed babies and twitchy, skinny street kids hugging themselves and muttering. Baekhyun closes his eyes and lets the last of the chalky taste under his tongue run down his throat. All his muscles ache. If he could just sleep he’s sure he’d feel better but even that doesn’t happen. Finally the nurse calls out.

“Byun?”

Minseok helps Baekhyun sit up, hand warm on his back. “Can you go in by yourself or do you want company?”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “I can walk,” he mutters. “Thank you. Lemme keep the bucket though.”

Minseok offers a small smile and lets Baekhyun stagger to his feet. “You’ll get some help and you’ll feel better really soon, I promise.”

Baekhyun nods, shuffling towards the nurse’s beckoning form by the double doors. She offers another one of those peculiarly distant smiles and guides him through, taking him to a small cubicle with a pastel green curtain shucked aside, a bed and a single chair tucked up against the equipment stand. “Take a seat on the bed. The doctor will see you in ten. Do you need anything?”

Baekhyun shakes his head, still clutching the little bucket. Something twists in his stomach and he figures the miniature tablet’s effect isn’t going to last forever. Hopefully he can get diagnosed and treated before he makes a mess of himself. The nurse pats him on the shoulder and leaves, swishing the curtain shut behind herself.

Left alone in the small room Baekhyun eyes the bed with its sterile plastic covering and long strip of single-use paper draped over the length of it. He hates hospitals, has always done his best to avoid having to patronise them, but he’s forced to be here now and he mentally gives himself a stern talking to; it’s to help get him better. He can bear it for tonight.

He hoists himself up onto the bed, paper crinkling uncomfortably underneath him. It makes his legs dangle off at this strange height and Baekhyun shivers in the artificially controlled temperature. His skin is clammy from so much sweating and the cool air isn’t helping.

Everything smells sterile in hospitals. Like chemicals and the underlay of illness and if Baekhyun wasn’t burning up, somehow chilled at the same time and in possession of a fierce desire to not spend another twenty four hours curled over a toilet he wouldn’t be within a mile of here. The watch on his wrist shows it as being just before 1am.

The curtain flicks back before quarter past on the hour and Baekhyun is in company again as a tall figure enters, white coat slung casually over a neat button-down shirt with faint, candy-pink stripes running across it. Baekhyun gets a glimpse of a dark head of hair as the doctor scans the clipboard in his hand briefly before looking up and-

Baekhyun gives a faint groan. Holy god he’s stunning. Big, expressive eyes and a warm smile and Jesus fuck here’s Baekhyun looking like he’s crawled out of the nearest garbage dump. Great. His heart sinks as the doctor crosses the small space and amps up his smile a notch.

“Hello. I’m Doctor Park.” He glances at the clipboard briefly again and then meets Baekhyun’s eyes unwaveringly. “Byun Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun manages a squeak. Which only makes Doctor Park smile wider. The small, crooked name-tag pinned to one lapel reads Chanyeol. Doctor Park must see where Baekhyun is looking because he tilts his head to one side.

“You can call me Chanyeol if that’s more relaxing?”

And that’s when Baekhyun realizes he must be making some kind of deer-in-the-headlights look at this stupidly handsome doctor because Chanyeol seems to think he’s petrified of being here. Which... not entirely inaccurate up until thirty seconds ago. But now all Baekhyun feels is mortification for sitting here looking half dead while in the presence of the hottest guy he’s seen in forever. He’s clutching a puke bucket for god sakes. How is this his life.

Chanyeol waits patiently until Baekhyun clears his throat and nods jerkily.

“Yes. Uh, yes that’s me. Byun Baekhyun. You can call me Baekhyun if you… want,” he finishes lamely, wanting to simultaneously kick himself and sink through the floor. God. Get it together.

Chanyeol, bless him, looks like Baekhyun just said something endearing instead of stupid though and grins, looking back to the chart he has hold of. “Okay, Baekhyun-“ and something deep in Baekhyun’s chest turns to _liquid_ at how his name sounds in that deep voice. “You’ve presented with stomach cramps, nausea, vomiting, fever, chills and a really good dose of dehydration.” Chanyeol crosses to the small stand and pulls out a pair of sterile gloves. “Any diarrhoea?”

Aaaaand that warm feeling evaporates in a heartbeat, leaving Baekhyun feeling embarrassed all over again as he nods morosely. _Way to go Baekhyun, discussing bowel movements. How sexy. That’ll be a conversation kicker for sure._ “When I was still trying to eat.”

“How long since you had food or fluids?” Chanyeol works the gloves onto his hands in a way that makes Baekhyun think of how fast a capable guy can slide on a condom, all practised stretch and tug. Thank fuck his cheeks are already red from the fever. Wait… question. Answer.

“Uh, four-it’ll be five days by the end of today.”

Chanyeol glances sideways. “We’re going to try and not let it get to that. You can go much longer without solid food but your body won’t last past a week without fluids. Your organs will start to pack it in.”

Baekhyun drags his eyes up from Chanyeol’s gorgeous hands. It takes a second. “I keep trying but it won’t stay down.”

Chanyeol nods. “If you’re not feeling muscle cramps already you will soon. You need salt and electrolytes and fluids.”

Baekhyun tightens his hold on his bucket as Chanyeol lifts up a stethoscope and slings the two ear pieces around his neck. Jesus christ it’s like every stupid daytime drama Jongdae makes Baekhyun sit through. Doctor Sexy. Only Baekhyun isn’t some hot patient in an ass-revealing gown. He’s a miserable lump who he’s pretty sure smells like puke. Chanyeol either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mind because he approaches Baekhyun with another one of those soft smiles and holds up the end piece of the stethoscope.

“I need to see if your heartrate is elevated. It’s commonly associated with the rest of these symptoms.”

Baekhyun nearly blurts out that he _knows_ without a doubt that his heartrate is up right now but he stops himself in time, gazing up at Chanyeol who seems tall even while Baekhyun is sitting on this bed. Chanyeol reaches slowly for Baekhyun’s bucket once he’s in range.

“Do you think you can put it aside for a moment or do you still need it?”

Baekhyun stupidly, irrationally wants to cling to the piece of smelly plastic like a life preserver between himself and this wet dream come to life but he knows he can’t. Chanyeol needs to... oh god. He’s going to have to press against his chest. Baekhyun considers in a split second of madness just bolting from the cubicle. From the whole hospital. He’s sure he could get to the carpark before they caught him. Only... there’s no other hospital in town and Baekhyun really, _really_ thinks he’s going to collapse if he goes another day like this. So he nods feebly and lets Chanyeol take the bucket and set it aside.

Once there’s nothing between them Chanyeol steps close. “Deep, slow breaths until I tell you to stop.” He flashes an apologetic smile. “Sorry that it’s going to be cold.”

And then he slips the circular chestpiece down the neck of Baekhyun’s shirt and presses it against his pectoral.

Baekhyun honest to god peeps out a whimper. Caught halfway between the teeth he manages to clamp together at the last second, it comes out more like a faint gurgle but Chanyeol hooks the stethoscope ends up into his ears with his other hand and closes his eyes as if he doesn’t notice.

“Deep breaths for me.”

As if Baekhyun would refuse this guy _anything_. So he focuses on inhaling and exhaling evenly, trying not to make another sound as Chanyeol listens carefully, eyes still closed in concentration. It allows Baekhyun the freedom to really look at the doctor unobserved and fuck he’s too good to be true. Broad shoulders that scream ‘hang off me’, full, pink lips, soft cheeks dusted by the cutest sets of dark eyelashes and a nose Baekhyun badly wants to boop just to bring out one of those big grins again. All topped off by a fluffy expanse of unruly, dark hair that Baekhyun can tell gets a hand ran through it several times a shift if the way it’s sticking up is any indication. He’s... Doctor Park is too hot to be real. And here he is, leaning over Baekhyun with a hand down his shirt and his eyes watching Baekhyun-

Baekhyun jumps, caught and pinned as he realizes Chanyeol has been watching him shamelessly ogle him for the last few seconds. Baekhyun jerks his eyes away, half curling to one side in total embarrassment. The paper underneath him crinkles again, signalling his guilty move like a loudspeaker. _What a pervert,_ Baekhyun admonishes himself. Eyeing off his emergency room doctor. But Chanyeol to Baekhyun’s eternal gratitude doesn’t call him on it, doesn’t do anything except shift slightly and drag the stethoscope out and around to push it down the back of Baekhyun’s shirt this time.

The small circle still feels chilled against Baekhyun’s overheated skin and he concentrates on breathing on command so as not to die from sheer mortification. Chanyeol listens for a few more torturous rounds of inhales and exhales before leaning back and removing the chestpiece. He unhooks the earbuds but leaves the whole device around his neck which Baekhyun inwardly adores because it completes the look so well.

“Your heartbeat is elevated as expected.” Chanyeol makes a note on the chart and moves back to the small table of equipment. _No shi_ _t,_ Baekhyun vaguely intones guiltily, watching those sinfully long legs cross the distance like it’s nothing. _But not for the reasons you think_.

Chanyeol retrieves a small device attached to a cable and comes back. Reaching out he scoops up Baekhyun’s hand and if Baekhyun wasn’t fatigued to all hell he might have jerked his hand away but his reflexes are non-existent at this point of exhaustion and he’s now basically a floppy puppy. So he watches in equal parts fascination and worry as Chanyeol cups all of Baekhyun’s fingers in his much larger hand except for his pointer (and on Baekhyun’s overheated skin Chanyeol’s cool hand feels so fucking good he could cry), onto which he slips a thick, soft clip. Baekhyun can feel a little rounded bump under the tip of his finger.

Chanyeol reaches back and flicks on the monitor. “This is just to take your temperature. We’ll leave it on for a bit. It won’t hurt.”

If it means sitting here with Chanyeol’s hand wrapped around his, Baekhyun would pretty much do anything. But once he has the device on and settled Chanyeol lets go, which is all kinds of disappointing. Baekhyun isn’t pouting. He isn’t. He just has no social filter right now.

Chanyeol must catch it because he raises his eyebrows. “I know all this doesn’t seem like it’s helping with how shitty you feel but I promise you it is. I need all your vitals to make a baseline before treatment.”

Baekhyun nods, feeling himself drooping half because he has no cute doctor attached to him any longer and half out of pure exhaustion. It’s been a long few days. Chanyeol places the back of his hand against Baekhyun’s forehead and Baekhyun, to his abject horror purrs a little at the cool relief.

Chanyeol chuckles. “Yeah even without this readout you’re burning up. I’m going to go get you something for that and we’ll also work on fluids. One last test then I promise you we’ll start making you feel better.”

Distantly as Chanyeol crosses to the other side of the bed and pulls out a blood pressure cuff, Baekhyun hopes the ‘we’ means just Park Chanyeol. Because Baekhyun desperately wants all the attention to be from him if all he will ever see of his six foot handsome self is relegated to tonight’s visit. He obediently sticks out an arm and Chanyeol scooches the cuff up until it hits his bicep and Baekhyun is very ready to have Chanyeol press that little chestpiece against the crook of his arm and linger for another moment... only to watch as Chanyeol turns on the machine and it becomes clear it’s a modern, automatic reader. No stethoscope required. Baekhyun will deny to his dying day that he makes a faint _humph_ at that realization, but to his great surprise that earns him a gentle pat to the head.

“It’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Not worried,” Baekhyun mutters, watching the bag settle itself. Hurriedly he stumbles on. “Stethoscopes are just… cooler.”

Chanyeol actually laughs at that, the sound loud and warm. “It’ll turn off once it’s done. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Baekhyun nods as Chanyeol’s hand slips off his head and resigns himself to listening to the puff of the internal pumps as the machine inflates the cuff and then holds it for a short moment before releasing steadily, reading his blood pressure as it goes.

True to his word Chanyeol reappears in short order, a shallow cup in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. Baekhyun eyes the water dubiously.

“I want to take those tablets, really I do... but they’re not going to stay down.” He knows how exhausted he sounds but he can’t help it. He feels vaguely green just thinking about trying to drink, like his stomach knows what’s coming. “I’m sorry.”

Chanyeol places the items down on the small table. “It’s okay.” He tears open a small packet that’s been brought in with the cup and it’s another one of those wonderful anti-nausea tablets that Baekhyun could marry right now. “Take another one of these for now to keep you away from that bucket. The rest of the medicine is for the fever but I want to get some fluids into you first.”

Baekhyun hears the ominous clatter of an instrument cart and groans. He knows what that means. “You’re going to stick me aren’t you?”

Chanyeol smiles indulgently at Baekhyun. It gives him dimples. “If you can drink the contents of this bottle I won’t have to. But I don’t think you can right now.”

Baekhyun scowls at the bottle as his stomach gives a small heave. “I can... try,” he hedges as a nurse wheels in the IV cart. Pleasing Chanyeol would surely be worth the pain, he reasons.

Chanyeol cocks his head and uncaps the bottle--but just the crinkle of plastic and the slosh of water inside is enough for Baekhyun to grab for the discarded bucket and dunk his head inside, heaving. His stomach cramps impossibly painfully and he spits out what little acidic liquid he can, every muscle in his diaphragm contracting around expelling something that isn’t there. He’s a ball of pain across his entire torso and for a moment Baekhyun desperately wants to cry. This has to be stopped. He can’t take another week of this. He can’t. He-

A large, cool hand rubs slow circles against Baekhyun’s back, easing the pain away. Chanyeol speaks low as if he’s crouched down. “Don’t fight it, you’ll just hurt more.”

Fuck his life right now. Baekhyun takes a few beep breaths and pants out pained sounds; little whimpers that only the bucket and Chanyeol hear. “What-” Baekhyun manages after a moment. “What’s wrong with me?”

The hand on Baekhyun’s back keeps up it’s incredibly reassuring rhythm. “You have gastroenteritis,” Chanyeol murmurs. “Stomach flu,” he elaborates when Baekhyun groans in confusion. “It’ll make you feel like hell but your body can fight it with the help of some antibiotics. But to give you those antibiotics we need to get some fluids into you intravenously. Then your stomach can take them.”

Baekhyun finally, finally stops convulsing enough to look up. His head feels like it weighs a million pounds and that only compounds the pounding headache he’s had since last week. Chanyeol swims into view and he’s watching Baekhyun’s pupils carefully.

“Can you sit up before you pass out? Your head is probably killing you, I know. That’s the dehydration as much as the vomiting.”

Baekhyun sits back upright and pants out his breaths until he’s no longer feeling light-headed. “Sorry,” he grits out. How gross.

“It’s okay. I’ve seen way worse.” Chanyeol hands over the tiny anti-nausea tablet which Baekhyun immediately sticks under his tongue and applies gentle pressure until Baekhyun keeps leaning backwards, cushioned in Chanyeol’s guiding grip on both sides of his torso until he’s finally lying prone on the bed. “You’re doing so well, trust me. Someone else already tried to take a swing at me tonight from a bed.”

Baekhyun’s head bounces up off the pillow the moment he touches it, even as the nurse is tourniqueting his spare arm. “What?” The move makes him dizzy as fuck but he’s already halfway ready to smack the asshole even if it lands him on his ass. “Why?”

Chanyeol looks impossibly endeared at this but he softly pushes Baekhyun’s head back down with one hand. “Mhmm. He was intoxicated. I was trying to stem some bleeding.”

Baekhyun scowls up from underneath the palm Chanyeol still has on his forehead. “You we’re trying to help! That dick. People should be more- ow.” Baekhyun peters out, looking dumbly down at his right arm. Without noticing it the nurse had slid the drip home.

Chanyeol’s smile is warm. “Distracted you.”

“Here I am,” Baekhyun mumbles, “Defending your honor and you’re being all sneaky and cute and hey this thing doesn’t have aesthetic in it does it?” His eyes now that he’s lying down are starting to feel heavy. Also his tongue just ran away with him. _Shit._

“No,” Chanyeol murmurs. The tops of his cheeks are faintly pink but his tone is still professional. “That could be dangerous while you’re dehydrated. It could over-sedate you accidentally. You’re just trusting me enough to finally relax. The fluids will get into your system quicker this way and you can rest here for a bit while you take the bag. I’ll come back when you’re done and we can work on those tablets. Is there anyone outside waiting for you?”

As much as Baekhyun _very_ much doesn’t want to stop looking at Chanyeol, it feels good to finally rest without fear of having to lurch upright to puke. And Chanyeol did say he’d be back. The tablet is keeping Baekhyun stable for a little longer, he can’t remember the last time he laid out flat instead of curled around a bucket and he’s going to feel better when he has all the fluids. He trusts Chanyeol on this. “Ask for Minseok.” Baekhyun yawns and slowly succumbs to his exhaustion. “B’friend. He’s... out there.” He’s sure Chanyeol understands it. His best friend didn’t bring him all the way here not to sit with him through these last few hours. Minseok will come in.

The last thing he sees is the small, sad crease between Chanyeol’s pretty eyes.

* * *

Baekhyun comes to a few hours later, swimming out of the haze of rest to the sound of voices and a hand carefully tugging at something attached to the IV line. Minseok must have been fetched when Baekhyun was out because that’s the first voice he hears even before he opens his eyes.

“What?” Minseok’s quiet laughter rings around the cubicle. “No, no if you’re keeping him overnight I can’t stay. I’m not family. But I’ve got a spare change of clothing for him and everything for when he actually showers.”

Chanyeol’s voice comes from somewhere to the right of Baekhyun, accompanying the movements. “We don’t discriminate here. Boyfriends count.”

Minseok sounds like he’s trying very hard not to choke. “He’s not my boyfriend! I’d kill him if we lived together; he’s way too messy to keep.”

“Hey,” Baekhyun croaks out, indignant. God his throat is dry. “I’m not that bad.”

Minseok moves to the opposite side of the bed. “Hello sleepyhead. It’s been about an hour. How are you feeling?”

 _Only an hour?_ Baekhyun blinks against the harsh flouro lights above him. Finally Minseok swims into view. Baekhyun reaches out and flops a hand against his arm. “A little more human.”

Chanyeol speaks from his other side and Baekhyun turns his head to gaze up at his resident angel of mercy who has removed the line from the insertion point still taped to the crook of Baekhyun’s arm. “You’ve finished the bag nicely. Did you want to see if you can stomach the tablets? I have antibiotics and some ibuprofen for your temperature and everything that aches.”

Baekhyun nods against his paper-covered pillow. Then he gingerly pushes himself up onto his elbows, expecting to feel his stomach give a huge complaint...

Only to find it’s reduced to a dull squirm. Baekhyun sits up fully as Chanyeol fetches the baby cup and water bottle. He hands them over and Baekhyun takes a deep breath.

“If these end up all over the floor in thirty seconds I am _so_ sorry.”

Chanyeol crosses his arms and the move makes his forearms flex beautifully under the rolled-up sleeves he has going. “Stop apologizing,” he admonishes gently. The faint edge of a tattoo peeks out and Baekhyun goes weak. “If they do come back up we just give you half a bag at a time until you’re able to try again.”

Absolutely nothing seems to phase Chanyeol, not even the prospect of Baekhyun puking all over him and there’s something amazingly sexy about that confidence. Baekhyun wishes for the umpteenth time that he didn’t look like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards as he gingerly downs the medicine with as little water as he can stand. Life is just that cruel sometimes. Chanyeol looks incredibly pleased as he finishes and makes another note on Baekhyun’s chart.

“Well done. I want to keep you in overnight to make sure the fever breaks, everything stays inside where it should and to give you more of the IV if it doesn’t.”

Baekhyun is feeling so warm in the glow of Chanyeol’s praise (and the first time he’s not felt like upchucking in days) that his brain to mouth filter is kind of offline right now. His usual defences are rock bottom. Which is why he rather dopily asks without thinking, “Will you be here in the morning?”

He doesn’t miss the look Minseok shoots him, all raised eyebrows and a tightly-held smile.

Chanyeol smiles like Baekhyun has said the cutest thing instead of verbally running his mouth like the moron he apparently is tonight. He takes the cup and bottle back, placing them next to whatever else is on that equipment table. “My shift runs from nine to nine so yes, I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Baekhyun perks up at that, finally relaxing back against his pillow. “Okay.” He catches Minseok’s eye roll and silently thanks his friend for not saying anything embarrassing. He can cover that base himself, thanks.

Chanyeol places Baekhyun’s chart on the the foot of his bed, next to one ankle. “I’ll get you a blanket but we need this bed so you’ll be shifted to a proper room.”

Baekhyun has enough strength to mutter, “No sexy hospital gown?”

Chanyeol flashes him a smirk over his upraised arm as he flicks the curtain back. An honest to god smirk that nearly stops Baekhyun’s heart. “One can be arranged if you want.”

Minseok’s careful control snaps and he sniggers. “I’ll come pick him up in the morning if that’s okay with you.”

"Sure,” Chanyeol replies. He tugs the latex covering off his fingers with smooth flicks. “He’s in good hands.”

Baekhyun whines internally. Then he offers a faint, “Hey you don’t have to save me enough for me to have to go to work tomorrow. I’d be more than fine with a day off.” 

Minseok cheerfully pretends to ignore the pleading tone as he asks just how early Baekhyun can be discharged. “Seven? Eight?”

Chanyeol’s gaze flicks between both of them. Baekhyun thinks he smiles but Chanyeol turns away before Baekhyun can be sure. He drops the gloves into a bin, scoops up Baekhyun’s chart and makes a small note. Then his eyes flick up, meeting Baekhyun’s only. The tips of his ears are ever so faintly flushed. “I’d say about one minute past nine?”

Baekhyun’s breath gets caught in his throat. Chanyeol’s eyes drop to where Baekhyun’s mouth is hanging open, unused.

“I mean if that’s okay with you?”

Baekhyun sits frozen until Minseok kicks the leg of his bed. “Sure! I mean-sure. Fine. More than fine. Totally-”

Minseok slaps a hand over his mouth. “He says yes.”

Chanyeol ducks his head, smiling, and then he smoothly leaves without another word.

Baekhyun flops back onto the bed as Minseok releases his face and gives him the most _unsubtle_ look Baekhyun has ever seen.

“So uh, how about you call me if you actually _do_ need that pickup. If not, I’ll assume you’ve made your own way out of here.”

Baekhyun is grinning up at the ceiling like an idiot.

When he sees Chanyeol the following morning, Baekhyun may have missed out on backless hospital gown moment but Chanyeol is in street clothes. Free, no longer his doctor, standing by the discharge doors and looking ready to _eat_ in ripped jeans and a hoodie. He’s also holding the end of a string attached to a bright yellow ‘get well soon’ balloon.

Baekhyun thinks he might just have to keep him.

* * *


	15. Travel The World On Exo’s Ladder #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #1 - Chanbaek/Kaisoo/Seho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours/real-time fics are usually tiny snippets posted on my tumblr within a day of the events happening/show being aired/photos being shown. I'll add them all here for posterity.

Jongdae is the designated group kickstarter for this morning. He didn’t need to play a ladder game for the dubious honor, he simply silently nominated himself the moment he saw the sleeping arrangements.

Which is why he drags himself up in the semi-dark light first the following morning, his phone alarm buzzing beside his cheek. He should really get more appreciation, he tells himself silently as he staggers up and walks over to the next mattress.

The internal cameras are on an auto timer and the production crew as a rule generally set them to switch off about midnight and back on just after sunrise. So if Jongdae has set his alarm correctly -he squints blearily at his watch; yes he has- he should have just enough time to do his round.

Reaching down, Jongdae tugs at Kyungsoo who has migrated over to Jongin’s double mattress in the silent hours of the night. Jongin registers the movement and curls tighter around Kyungsoo, grumbling but Jongdae has had practice at this.

“Cameras,” he says to Kyungsoo, rocking him back and forth by the shoulder. He knows from experience that getting Jongin to untangle from Kyungsoo is an impossible task so he aims for the more sensible boyfriend out of the two. “One hour.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t open his eyes. But he makes a long, frustrated sound and pushes himself out of Jongin’s clingy arms with a bit of wiggling and rolls blindly over onto his own single mattress, wrapping the white comforter around himself like an angry burrito. Jongin follows as far as his own mattress will allow and Jongdae figures that’s enough. You take small victories where you can find it. He silently hides Jongin’s phone under his pillow as a lesson for being such a stubborn octopus.

Swiping a hand across his eyes Jongdae trudges outside next, the sliding glass doors making no sound in the cold morning air as he opens them. The chill on the wooden decking makes his feet sting as he ascends to the second floor. An educated guess takes him to Chanyeol’s room. He’s right.

Baekhyun whines like a small puppy as Jongdae strips the covers off the bed and grabs him by the wrist to manhandle him back to his own bed. But they all know the rules and Chanyeol only lets him go after Baekhyun takes one of his jackets -a blue, red and white concoction that comes down to his knees- to cover his nakedness for any of the early crew members who are up and about. Jongdae is eternally grateful he didn’t put his contacts in. He opens Baekhyun’s door to shove him inside with a reminder to change back into his pyjamas and for the love of god take a shower because Jongdae is never again having breakfast next to him when he smells like sex.

The scent of coffee and the shuffling murmur of crew bodies setting up on the grassed area outside greet Jongdae as he returns to the lower level and crosses over to Sehun’s room. He knows Junmyeon agreed on camera to sleep there so he doesn’t have to relocate either of those two idiots, but he does deserve at least one reset pass for sweeping the empty condom wrappers scattered across the foot of the bed into the bin. Or perhaps two, he adjusts. For the trauma. He picks up the half-empty bottle of lube that’s rolled onto the floor and drops it into Sehun’s bag.

Dragging his feet back past the crew as he exits, he waves wearily and returns to the main lounge room. His watch still shows half an hour so he meanders past the first pair who are still magnetised to the sides of their mattresses closest to each other like obvious fools and wanders into Minseok’s room. Jongdae flops face first onto the empty side of the bed and a gentle hand cards through his hair.

“Is it done?”

Jongdae yawns into the pillow. “Your turn tomorrow morning.”

Minseok puts down his phone and tosses his own side of the comforter over Jongdae, patting his back. “You did well. I’ll wake you in half an hour.”

Jongdae sleeps, content.


	16. Travel The World On Exo’s Ladder #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #2 - Kaisoo

Jongin and Kyungsoo come as a package deal most of the time; if you want one, you’re likely going to find the other very close by. If you question one the other often answers. It’s a couple thing and normally endearing as hell, but on some rare occasions Junmyeon has to put his foot down and say something. Like tonight. It doesn’t stop Jongin looking at him standing in the doorway of the bathroom like he’s gone mad though, toothbrush half hanging out of his mouth as he speaks.

“What? Why? I have my own.”

Junmyeon sighs and wiggles the plastic packet he’s holding out to Jongin. “That’s what I was worried about. Here. Change into these before you go back out.”

Jongin looks down the length of his own bare chest and at the pyjama pants he’s already sporting. “I don’t see the problem.” He scrubs his teeth and turns to spit into the sink, wiping his mouth on a small towel and rinsing the brush.

Junmyeon places the packet containing the set of brand new sleeping clothes onto the side of the sink. “You can’t keep sharing. Not while we’re here on camera.”

Someone brushes past Junmyeon to get into the bathroom and aha, there’s Junmyeon’s other half of the puzzle. Wearing the matching top half of Jongin’s pyjamas and nothing else. Junmyeon crosses his arms and looks pointedly between them. Jongin finally blushes.

Kyungsoo lowers the towel he’s gently scrubbing through his damp hair and spots the package. “Ah.”

“Exactly.” Junmyeon turns to go. “I knew you’d only pack one set between you.”

Kyungsoo looks abashed, picking up his glasses from the bench top. “Sorry. Habit.”

“Forgiven.”

Junmyeon hears the soft ‘thank you for thinking of us’ Jongin aims at his back as he walks out. It makes him smile.


	17. Travel The World On Exo’s Ladder #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #3 - Chanbaek/Kaisoo/Seho/Xiuchen

Chanyeol’s legs are long enough to cover at least two people, or in this case one Baekhyun and two regular-sized Jongin and Kyungsoo, although he has to stretch out flat across everyone on the couch to win the bet and prove he can. Junmyeon feeds him popcorn as he lies prone across them because he is the winner, after all. Chanyeol crunches happily.

Baekhyun has his hands tucked into the side pocket on Chanyeol’s sweatpants, keeping warm. It looks innocent enough but Jongdae has forbidden his hands from wandering any further between Chanyeol’s legs because the last time he teased, Chanyeol jumped so much he nearly knocked Jongdae in the back of the head.

Kyungsoo pokes one of the bare ankles resting on his thigh as the credits keep rolling. “I need to reach the remote.”

Sehun contorts from where he’s squashed between Junmyeon and the upper half of Chanyeol to flick the small controller in Kyungsoo’s direction. It makes it only halfway but Jongin catches the device and finishes it’s journey. Kyungsoo makes a pleased sound.

“Baekhyun, your choice next.”

Junmyeon drops a kernel into Chanyeol’s open mouth and lets him munch contentedly with his head in his lap. “Hey I won the last round.” He makes a fist with his hand to show how he beat Baekhyun’s scissors. It jogs Kyungsoo’s memory. Jongin plucks the controller back and stretches around Chanyeol’s heavy knees to hand it to Junmyeon before settling back against Kyungsoo’s side. He tucks his face into Kyungsoo’s neck and yawns.

Junmyeon flicks through the Netflix options with Sehun draped over one of his shoulders, clinging on. “We should have used Minseok’s room, it has a television and a big bed.”

Minseok tips his head back from where he’s sitting on the floor wrapped in a blanket with Jongdae. “I’d never get you all off it to sleep by myself later.”

“You could all come and sleep upstairs in mine tonight,” Sehun pipes up, hopeful.

“No,” everyone choruses.

Sehun sighs. Kyungsoo snorts from down the other end of the couch.


	18. Nature Republic Fan Festival '19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #4 - Kaisoo/Chanbaek

“Take Chanyeol’s car home.”

A white ping pong ball sails past and bounces off Baekhyun’s temple as he’s addressing Kyungsoo; he breaks away to chase it, scoop it up, spin and fling it back at Chanyeol in one move. He misses.

Kyungsoo goes back to looking at his phone as he walks. “Why?” Jongin hasn’t texted back since they left the stage and Kyungsoo can’t find him **.**  He disappeared into the depths of the dark and cavernous sound-stage the moment the show was over and they all need to leave within the hour.

Baekhyun goes to answer -something about wanting to tease Jongin some more- but Chanyeol trips over a trailing cord and Baekhyun chooses that moment to duck out of sight for a better vantage point to attack from.

“It’s like herding cats,” Junmyeon mutters as he stalks past to pull Minseok away from the half dozen makeup girls who have corralled him to wish him an early happy birthday. Sehun sprints by laughing like a loon and vanishes from view between two lighting rigs. Another ping pong ball follows him. “Go get changed and unplugged! All of you.”

Kyungsoo drifts off and searches down every hallway he can reach, leaving his ear pieces and sound equipment with a helpful PA. But Jongin is still nowhere to be found. And Kyungsoo knows he can’t have left because the only members who are driving tonight are still here. Playing tag.

Somewhere in the distance Sehun must make a critical mistake because there’s the sound of gleeful whoops and a single helpless squeak. Not far away Jongdae wanders contentedly in the direction of the underground car park, humming quietly to himself, a bucket of balls in one hand. Kyungsoo pities whoever falls into that ambush.

He never does find Jongin. Because in the end it’s Jongin who finds him.

Kyungsoo is halfway under some scaffolding and a lot of stage rigging, feeling more than a little foolish for attempting to look here when two hands on his waist spin him around. Kyungsoo’s back hits one of the scaffolding posts. Jongin is immediately there, hands gently pawing at Kyungsoo’s hairline, brushing his fringe away from the little suction mark still puffed up there. His eyes are dark.

Kyungsoo sighs in relief. “Where have you been? We have to go before midnight.”

“Thinking,” Jongin mutters, peering carefully at the mark. It’s code speak for sulking and thankfully Kyungsoo is well-versed in reading fluent Jongin. He snags the belt loops on Jongin’s baggy jeans and hauls him close until they’re flush.

“It’s not like you to be so worked up over a little thing.”

Jongin’s intense eyes finally leave the tiny hickey and dart down to Kyungsoo’s face. “It’s not little,” he retorts, but there’s a faint hint of a smile hiding there at the double-entendre. He can never stay mad at Kyungsoo himself. Baekhyun on the other hand will be in for some real hell later. Kyungsoo decides to put Jongin in a slightly better mood after all he’s had to suffer through. He drops his hands down and around to Jongin’s zipper, thumb flicking the button open.

“We need to be quick.”

Jongin pouts, unhappy. “We have to return the clothes.”

Kyungsoo undoes the zipper and for all of his token little protest Jongin is thickening against the back of his hand as he brushes past. “Good thing we’re not getting them dirty then.”

Jongin’s hands turn greedy even as he cocks his head in confusion, sliding down to palm at Kyungsoo’s neck, his favorite resting place. Strong fingers flex and dig in. “How-” he bites his lip as Kyungsoo tugs him out and glances around to check that they’re still alone. Kyungsoo grins.

“Back pocket.” He strokes Jongin with both hands in long, delicious pulls, unwilling to let go of his prize for a moment to do it himself. Plus the way Jongin scrambles for the described location is so endearing. Kyungsoo knows he recognizes it when he finds it because Jongin inhales sharply.

“Is it warm enough?”

“I’ve had it there all evening. Should be nice and sloppy by now.” Kyungsoo rubs a thumb along the bundle of nerves underneath the head of Jongin’s cock. It nearly makes him drop the small tub as he brings it around to unscrew the cap.

The scent is unmistakable as soon as it’s open and Kyungsoo grins. “Thank you Nature Republic.”

Jongin dips in several fingers and they come away thickly coated and glistening. Kyungsoo darts up and kisses him, shifting a hand away to open his own pants.

“You have half an hour before Junmyeon kills us.” Kyungsoo murmurs as Jongin crowds close and spins him around with an eager, possessive twist. The hand returns to the back of his neck as Jongin pins him in place and oh. Yes. “Remind me I’m yours.”

***

Baekhyun doesn’t end up punished to within an inch of his life on the ride home. But Chanyeol does ask why Kyungsoo smells of so much aloe vera when they all meet up in the parking garage.

Kyungsoo calmly replies that he’ll explain if Chanyeol in turn reveals how he got the big hickey of his own that’s currently bruising nicely and peeking out of his shirt.

Junmyeon walks past making kissy faces again.

***


	19. Lotte Duty Free opening in Brisbane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #5 - Seho/Kaisoo

“I saw kangaroos today!”

“That’s nice.” Sehun’s phone dips as he settles onto the couch. “Did you buy anything?”

“You mean did I buy  _you_  anything.”

The phone screen hovers closer as Sehun leans back against the cushions, highlighting his smile. Junmyeon rolls his eyes even though he knows the video doesn’t show it at that angle.

“I’m bringing you home a real kangaroo.”

Sehun pulls a face. Junmyeon eagerly barrels on.

“A big one. They grow really tall.”

“Stop.”

“And they kick.”

“Stop it! That’s scary.”

Junmyeon smirks. “Then stop asking what I bought you.”

The phone screen wobbles a bit and then settles out at arm’s length. “So you  _did_  buy me something.”

Junmyeon stretches out on the hotel bed. “You know I did.”

Sehun looks content. “Kyungsoo is here. Put Jongin on.”

Junmyeon leans away from his phone and calls for Jongin who is still in the bathroom, then returns to the screen. “Why is Kyungsoo still awake?”

Sehun laughs. “He’s hiding from Baekhyun.” As if on queue Kyungsoo sits down and hunches very low on the couch.

“He keeps trying to get me to play Underground Battles.”

“Player Unknown’s Batteground,” Sehun corrects automatically.

“That thing. How was the Lotte opening?”

“Wonderful,” Junmyeon replies as Jongin emerges from the bathroom. “Jongin didn’t say a thing on stage.”

A towel clonks Junmyeon on the side of the head as Jongin dives onto the double bed. “You speak all the English. I don’t.”

Kyungsoo’s voice is sly as the phone shows a long line of his dark pyjamas when Sehun shifts the phone angle. “You know more than you like to pretend.”

There’s a shuffling sound as Sehun hands the phone to Kyungsoo and stands up. “You taught him how to use swear words in English fast enough.”

Kyungsoo scowls up at Sehun as he makes his way unseen around the room, falsettoing ‘yes, fuck, there’.

Jongin goes so red beside Junmyeon that he can  _feel_  the sudden spike of embarrassed heat against his side. “We will be back soon. Try not to let Baekhyun break anything.”

Kyungsoo snorts, reaching around for a cushion to throw at Sehun as he keeps up his monologue. “Chanyeol is keeping his energy levels tapped.” He aims, flings and there’s a faint ‘ow’ from off-screen.

Jongin shuffles down and lays his head on Junmyeon’s shoulder, content as always just to watch Kyungsoo do anything and everything. Junmyeon pats him gently as the image on the screen that had fallen away as Kyungsoo beaned their maknae refocuses on his face.

“Will you sleep soon?”

Jongin nods gently. “We wanted to see you two first.”

Kyungsoo goes to say something but there’s the sound of incredibly enthusiastic footsteps thumping closer and Baekhyun suddenly leaps into the couch, sending the phone flying. Sehun can be heard cursing as the screen shows a jumbled skittering motion that goes dark as the phone must slide away under the end of the couch. Baekhyun’s voice reaches the speakers.

“It’s really easy! Come play! Chanyeol saved you a set of headphones.”

Jongin yawns against Junmyeon’s shoulder as Kyungsoo can be heard yelling for Chanyeol to come take Baekhyun away. A wayward foot kicks the phone and it tumbles. Junmyeon quietly tucks Jongin in as the rest of them scrabble over Kyungsoo.

“It was a good day today.” Jongin blinks sleepily at his watch. “I had fun.”

“I’m glad.”

There’s the sounds of a scuffle and finally fingers grope over the screen and haul Sehun’s phone back into the light. They belong to Chanyeol.

“Did you two eat well?” He’s breathless, laughing. A head pops up over his shoulder and Baekhyun waves at the two of them through the video link. Sehun snatches the phone back as Jongin nods slowly. They’re losing him so Sehun automatically passes the phone to Kyungsoo who crouches over the screen as everyone waves around the sides of his head.

“Goodnight Nini.”

Jongin smiles as if that was all he was waiting for and almost immediately nods off. Kyungsoo smacks everyone else away from him and hands the phone back to Sehun.

“Out! All of you!”

Baekhyun leans around Sehun to blow a kiss but Chanyeol scoops him up and carries him bodily out, squealing. Sehun flops back onto the couch once he’s alone and Kyungsoo has departed. The screen jiggles a bit as he gets it settled right.

“Will you be home tomorrow?”

“Soon. I want to get up early to take some photos.”

Sehun’s look is fond. “Ring me when you land.”

“I will. Go to sleep.”

Sehun shakes his head. “Jongdae will be home soon. Minseok is making us all food when he does.”

Junmyeon’s blinks are slower now and he flicks off the lamp and sinks under the covers next to Jongin who is already faintly snoring. He places the phone on the pillow and lets the call keep running in the dark. He knows Sehun will end the video when Junmyeon drifts off. He keeps his voice low so as not to disturb Jongin.

“Tell me about your day.”

* * *


	20. EXO Heart For You (ep 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #6 - Kaisoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jongin's voice is audible on the phone call Minseok makes to Kyungsoo during the episode.

Kyungsoo puts down the book he’s reading and pats about the bedcovers in the approximate direction of his vibrating phone. He finds it somewhere near his opposite elbow. “Hello?”

Minseok’s voice comes from the device, tinny and distorted because he’s on speaker. “Hey.” 

Kyungsoo closes his book properly, bookmarking the page. “Are you grocery shopping?”

“Yes,” Minseok’s voice has a slightly strained quality to it, the syllables lengthened. “I am.” There’s a pause. “About salt…”

Kyungsoo sits up a little straighter, smiling into the phone.

“…There’s seasoned salt, coarse salt, sun-dried salt and kosher salt-” Minseok rattles through the types with the speed of a confused adolescent and Kyungsoo can’t help it; he laughs. “-which one do I get?”

Kyungsoo opens his mouth once and then closes it again. “Don’t you have salt at home?” He can’t quite believe it but he has to check nonetheless. He knows the others are bad but this is a brand new, fully stocked house for Minseok. Surely… But the reply is sheepish.

“No I don’t.” There’s a breath and Minseok retraces his words. “Do I? I don’t.”

Kyungsoo takes pity on his poor hyung. After all Kyungsoo is cooking the majority of the dinner tonight so he shouldn’t be too harsh on their new host. Easy and multi-purpose is best. “Then just get the sun-dried salt,” he offers gently.

“What?” Minseok must be too worried, studying his imposing rows of shelves because he doesn’t catch that. Kyungsoo almost wants to tell him to take the phone off speaker but he knows its for the benefit of the camera crew filming so he repeats himself.

“Buy the sun-dried salt.”

“Sun-dried salt…” Minseok repeats, faintly lost.

“Yes.”

“F-fine salt?” Minseok sounds totally confused now and it’s really endearing. “There are different kinds.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kyungsoo advises patiently, shuffling his legs under the blanket. The sleeping lump beside him stirs at the sound of Kyungsoo talking and Jongin rolls over beneath the covers. Still speaking, Kyungsoo absently reaches out and threads a hand through his boyfriend’s hair. “I think you should just buy whatever is good for cooking.” He’s sure he can make any kind of salt work in the end. Surely…

“I don’t know anything about cooking,” Minseok reminds him a little helplessly. Kyungsoo really should have gone with him for this shopping trip but it’s Minseok’s episode and he’s notoriously shy about being on camera alone so this will be good for him. It will help him fill up minutes for the episode without worrying about it later. And Kyungsoo already has to make sure to get both himself and Jongin up, showered and dressed so they make it to the housewarming dinner tonight on time, even if he’s going a little earlier to help with the prep. 

“Just buy what feels right to you.”

“Feels?” 

Jongin blinks blearily. “Hyung…”

Kyungsoo quickly shifts his hand down to Jongin’s mouth and puts a finger across it. He gets a sleepy kiss on it for his troubles which is really quite cute but he taps Jongin’s lips several times in the universal sign they have for shutting up in the face of recording devices. Jongin obediently doesn’t say anything further, just pushes himself half up on one elbow. His hair is a total disaster and Kyungsoo loves it.

Minseok’s voice is about three octaves higher between having a camera stuck in his face and having to be in the dreaded condiments isle. Which Kyungsoo makes a mental note to visit himself and stock Minseok’s obviously empty spice cabinet later. “I like fine salt..?”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo seizes on that decision. “Then just buy that.”

Jongin stuffs his face into Kyungsoo’s pillow to muffle a yawn. Kyungsoo goes back to combing through his hair, scratching his scalp until Jongin flops against his side, content and heavy again. Minseok sounds hesitant.

“Okay you… don’t need a lot, do you?”

This is like having children without ever having to actually  _have_ children. “No,” Kyungsoo replies firmly. Please don’t buy ten packets…

“Okay I got it.”

Thank god. Kyungsoo makes a satisfied sound. Minseok echoes it happily down the receiver and cuts the call. Kyungsoo tosses the phone back onto the covers.

“Tonight is going to be interesting.”

Jongin nuzzles in under his chin and slings a warm leg over his. Kyungsoo picks up his neglected book and stretches an arm around Jongin in return, keeping him tucked close the way he likes best.

His phone rings again five minutes later.

“You know white wine… which one should I get?”

***


	21. Nature Republic Blockbuster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #7 - Chanbaek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prompt for future-me based on the NR posters after someone wondered what they would be like as a movie.

Six seconds. That’s all the time a pilot is given to attune to their mech. Either you adapt, link up or you fail. And failure in the ring means losing in more ways than one.

Chanyeol is the fastest pilot in the neuro-tech lineup. He’s never lost a fight. There’s not a mech designed today that he can’t sync with and use in the ring to deadly effect. If there’s a trophy for combat he’s owned it and there’s almost no one left on Elyxion who will challenge him. It’s putting the bookkeepers out of business because two years into his winning streak no one can beat the No.1 pilot and frankly it’s bad for the whole system.

It’s deliberate then, the virus that’s introduced into the system. No one can trace it but then again, no one is inclined to try too hard when it renders single-pilot mechs unusable, corrupting the systems and resetting the entire game from the ground up.

It forces in the era of dual-piloted mechs. The only thing capable of keeping the corrupted machines stable is the power inherent in two linked minds. And almost overnight Chanyeol, headstrong and stubborn, goes from top tier to un-salvageable when he refuses to work with a co-pilot. If no one is good enough to beat him, no one is good enough to fight beside him.  

It’s as Chanyeol is on the verge of leaving the competition that the offer comes from the one person he never expected; someone who has seemingly existed on the fringes of Chanyeol’s high-flying, gilded life. His prime mechanic, Baekhyun. Quiet, loyal and hardworking, Baekhyun has never set foot inside a mech ring in his life, is still willing to offer and is the one person on all of Elyxion that Chanyeol is terrified of neuro-linking with. 

Because he’s secretly loved him for years.

* * *


	22. EXO 7th Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #8 - Chanbaek/Kaisoo

“If you get tangled up mid-game and cant make the proper play don’t blame me, okay?”

Baekhyun looks like he’s in the middle of a pitched tent, perched on his DXRacer chair, knees hiked up under the comically big expanse of Chanyeol’s shirt that covers so much of him that he resembles a pointed grey boulder. A very pleased, smug little boulder with wiggling feet.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, last night before we fly out. I’m allowed to be indulgent.”

Chanyeol snorts as he pulls out the chair next to Baekhyun’s at the table. It’s not a pro gaming chair like his boyfriend’s, all ergonomic padding and recliner functions, but Chanyeol’s proper one is on the way. He’ll have it by the time he returns from Guam. “Don’t think I don’t know how many of my shirts you have stashed away for while I’m gone.”

“You like it when that’s all I wear on our video calls.” Baekhyun teases, shifting his mouse to load up the menu screen. “Now log in.”

Chanyeol grins, picking up his headphone set. Baekhyun’s one is already draped around his neck, little kitty ears that he fell in love with one broadcast permanently affixed. “The fact that they smell like me has absolutely nothing to do with it, I’m sure.”

Baekhyun goes a very endearing shade of pink, matching his headset perfectly. “Seven years,” he says softly. Chanyeol almost misses it. “I’m stupidly used to you being by my side.” He flicks through into his character breakdown menu, trying to look like he’s busy even though he won’t pick up a game until Chanyeol is there.

Headphones poised above his ears, Chanyeol lowers them back to the desk and reaches out, scooting their chairs close enough that the armrests touch. With one arm he’s able to gather his Baekhyun-lump up and pull him close, kitty ears and all. “It’s a good thing I love being there then, isn’t it?”

Baekhyun laughs. Stuck inside Chanyeol’s borrowed shirt and tipped comically to one side he kisses the only part of Chanyeol that he can easily reach; the tattoo on his forearm. “Here’s to another seven years.” He glances up at Chanyeol’s face. “Now get your butt online. I need backup.”

* * *

There’s minimal lighting on in the kitchen so Kyungsoo barely notices when Jongin shuffles in at this late hour, pajama pants making cute little scuffling noises on the tile. It’s only as he cracks the fridge that Kyungsoo looks away from the stove.

“What are you doing up?”

“You’re up,” Jongin answers from half inside the fridge like that explains everything. And perhaps it does. “Woke up and you were gone.”

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo turns the gas down a notch, the vegetables simmering in their pot sinking a fraction as he does. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“S’okay.” Jongin yawns and closes the fridge door, can of sparkling water flavored with something hideous in his hand. He shuffles over to Kyungsoo and winds a sleep-warm arm around his waist. The heat from his bare chest is like a furnace against Kyungsoo’s back. “What’re you cooking?”

“Lunch for tomorrow. For the picnic.”

Jongin gives a squeeze, popping the ring on his can with his free hand. The sound is stark in the dark kitchen. “It was supposed to be my secret,” he grumbles, but there’s no heat in it. “Who told you?”

“Jongdae. He called from after his fanmeet and got the day mixed up. Thought we’d already gone and asked me how it went.”

“Spoilsport,” Jongin sniggers, hooking his chin over Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “Did he tell you which park?”

“No, he backtracked pretty fast once he realized his mistake.”

“Then it’s still a surprise.” Jongin sounds content. He yawns once and kisses Kyungsoo’s cheek. “Thank you for making us food. I was going to get it catered but I like your cooking best.”

Kyungsoo feels warm all over. “I know.” He nudges his head against Jongin’s in a silent ask for more kisses. “Happy seven years.”

Jongin places the can down on the bench and wraps Kyungsoo up from behind, peppering his cheek with smooches. The kitchen clock overhead ticks away. “You’re just on time.”

“And,” Kyungsoo puts aside the spoon he’s using and turns in the circle of Jongin’s arms. “We have all the time in the world.”

__  



	23. Jongin’s NYC VLive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #9 - Kaisoo

“How did you get that into your suitcase without me knowing?”

Jongin’s right eye crinkles up happily. “You sleep the most deeply after you come. It wasn’t hard.”

“Yes it was,” Kyungsoo quips faintly and Jongin outright giggles, incredibly pleased with himself.

“It’s my favorite. I’m going to wear it for my live.”

Kyungsoo places his phone on the bathroom sink, balancing it against a glass he’s filled with water. It’ll never not be strange seeing Jongin in daylight while he’s approaching midnight on this end. “Everyone will find it cute,” he finally admits. Jongin makes a happy peep from behind where he’s done up the little strings that hold the hood together.

“I wish you were here. The food is something I know you’d want to try.”

Kyungsoo squirts some toothpaste onto his brush and sticks it into his cheek to reply. “Send me photos of what you eat.”

“I will. I’ll even find one of those carts that sell hotdogs on the corner of streets-”

Kyungsoo scowls into the phone. “No I take it back.”

“-and I’ll send you photos of all the toppings and the-”

“I’m withholding sex.”

Jongin dissolves into laughter, flopping back onto the bed. Little rumples of brown material stick out at adorable angles against the white sheets, almost like tiny bear ears. Kyungsoo can’t keep glaring when faced with that image. He brushes, spits and rinses. “I wish I was there too.”

Jongin props himself up on one elbow, the hoodie ties coming slightly loose. Kyungsoo can see his smile.

“I hope you sleep well.”

Kyungsoo picks up the phone to carry it with him as he returns to his bedroom. “I’ll try.” The sheets are still turned down and rumpled on Jongin’s side from when he left yesterday. Something melancholy pangs in Kyungsoo’s chest and he clambers up onto the bed, sinking down amongst the covers. Jongin doesn’t miss where he’s positioned.

“I love when you do that.”

Kyungsoo pretends he doesn’t know what he’s talking about and settles onto Jongin’s pillow. “Be careful not to let that drop too low,” he murmurs, motioning at his own collarbone. Everything around him smells faintly like Jongin. Like safety and soft cologne. Fluffy bears and long stretches of caramel skin. Home.

Jongin instinctively tightens the straps on the hood with the hand not holding his phone up. “I checked in the mirror before. All the hickeys are on my chest. No one will see.”

“Good.” Kyungsoo makes a contented sound. “Don’t poke them this time. Let them fade properly.”

The smile Kyungsoo can see hikes up further. “I like the reminders.”

“I’ll give you new ones when you get back,” Kyungsoo offers, pulling the sheets up to his chin. Jongin bites his lip.

“Promise?”

“And more. Come home safe.”

* * *


	24. Sehun Day ‘19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #10 - Seho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on Junmyeon's adorable apple-bob hair during the shopping part of Ladder that he wanted to show Sehun.

The world is very large and sometimes… once in a very rare mood, Junmyeon wants to be small. He wants to tie something cute in his hair and not have to think about what anyone else will say. He wants to put down the weight that he carries -something that he has become so used to over the years that it’s become baseline- and wants to think of nothing. The world is large, the voices in it are many and once in a while Junmyeon wants to tune them out, if only for a little while. Luckily Sehun’s shoulders are broad and for all his childish impulses, this is one thing he understands.

It manifests when he buys Junmyeon a coloring book in LA. When he silently hands it to Junmyeon with a small smile and a tiny packet of coloring pencils, tucks him into a corner of the first class airport lounge and doesn’t let anyone else comment on it. Stands guard, arms crossed and feet planted beside Junmyeon’s seat until he’s finished coloring in some abstract pattern of bubbles. Junmyeon feels lighter than he has in years. He keeps the book, tucks it into his bag and fills a page on each trip. He finishes it in Rome and texts Sehun a picture of the final page.

And Sehun remembers. He pays attention when no one else is watching and when Junmyeon is tearing his hair out over comeback prep and far too many individual travel schedules for the members, Sehun disappears on a shopping trip. Junmyeon comes back from the practice rooms to a pair of pajamas with a bunny silhouette on the front of them. A puff of a tail is three dimensional on its butt and Junmyeon is so enamored with it that he wears it to bed that very night. Sehun smiles when he sees it and cuddles Junmyeon extra tight, letting him curl his legs up around him as high as he wants. Junmyeon makes a note of this and it becomes his special pajama set; on the nights when he needs it the most he silently changes into them and Sehun knows wordlessly to give him what he needs.

An adorable plush appears in Junmyeon’s overnight bag almost like magic. He discovers it the first evening he’s on his own in months, digging to the bottom in search of a comb. Pinned to one ear is a note in scribbled handwriting. ‘Emergency cuddles’. Junmyeon knows he sleeps like a baby prawn (everyone tells him as much) so he understands that this is for the nights when he doesn’t have Sehun to curl around. He names the lop-eared rabbit Cotton and it travels with him everywhere.

Some days are longer than others. And Junmyeon has to organize everything, has to make sure everyone has their things packed, that he has double the supplies in case someone forgets their fever meds or ligament straps, arranges to have every favorite food on the table (he has them memorized), checks scripts and agents’ schedules and timetables and liaises with the managers because everyone else is busy… and at night he goes to Sehun, flops into his arms and lets that weight fall away. Because Sehun is big enough to block out the rest of the world, is gentle enough to keep him safe while Junmyeon’s mind drifts and if he arranges Junmyeon in between his legs so he can lean against him and tuck his face into Sehun’s neck, it’s their decision and Junmyeon always goes limp, trusting. Sehun rocks him gently, puts a tie in his hair that gives him an apple bob and softly calls him Bun Bun. It puts Junmyeon to sleep in under five minutes. Every time.

The world is large. But for a few precious hours, Junmyeon is small.

* * *


	25. Petals (SSFW photo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #11 - Chanbaek

Chanyeol places a single flower in a slim, small vase. Just one. Long-stemmed and fragile, he sits it on the table beside the window so that there is as much sunlight as the yellow bloom could want. It’s Chanyeol’s favorite table and he wants to make it as pretty as possible because the most stunning boy Chanyeol has ever known comes in for lunch twice a week and always picks that same table. He’s picked up Chanyeol’s heart somewhere along the way too, all without knowing it.

He writes songs. Chanyeol only realizes this because each time he’s brought the menu over there’s been open books scattered about the boy, thick pages full to the brim with penned lyrics in elegant, organized stanzas. Chanyeol desperately wants to ask what or who the songs are for but every time he thinks he could gather the courage to do so, the boy flashes him the handsomest smile and Chanyeol is left mumbling a brief, awestruck hello and taking his order.

The boy signs his receipt payments with the name Baekhyun. Chanyeol practices saying it under his breath on his breaks. He never manages to say it to the boy’s face, though. His tongue gets tied and he can only offer soft smiles, feeling like a too-large puppy.

He hopes Baekhyun enjoys the flower. Chanyeol isn’t sure, but he thinks it looks like something a songwriter might like. A pop of color. A little living bloom.

Baekhyun comes in that following afternoon. He seems to like ordering his food from Chanyeol the most, so the other serving staff generally leave him alone. Chanyeol takes his order down carefully as always and doesn’t miss the way Baekhyun gives the flower a curious glance. Chanyeol wonders if one day he’ll be brave enough to be able to use his words around the boy who writes them for a living.

When he finishes and leaves, Baekhyun takes the flower with him. Chanyeol doesn’t know whether to be confused or hopeful so he settles on not missing the small rose too much. He dreams that night of yellow flowers and boys in yellow shirts.

When he next sees Baekhyun sitting at his table, there’s a red flower in the vase that has been empty for three days. Baekhyun beams at Chanyeol as he orders his usual and goes about his writing. Painfully curious, Chanyeol wonders why Baekhyun brought the flower along. He wishes he were brave enough to ask. Cheeks pink, he watches Baekhyun’s elegant hands and wonders about a lot of other things too.

When Baekhyun leaves this time, pocketing the receipt and glancing back at Chanyeol as he pushes the front door open, he looks… nervous. Chanyeol can’t get that expression out of his mind as he clears the table quietly, wondering if it was something he’d done.

The flower sits in the sunlight, red and striking. Chanyeol lifts it’s glass holder to wipe around it and only then does he notice that the flower has a miniature glittery ribbon tied to the stem. He lifts it out of the vase and a small piece of paper is attached. The ribbon loops around the thick material, holding it closed. Chanyeol picks it apart with fingers that shake. He reads the words written in black ink there until they blur.

_Ask me and I’ll say yes._

Inside the note, pressed flat and small are two petals. One yellow. One red.

Chanyeol is brave only once in his life and the following Thursday is that moment. With a waver in his voice and his hands tight behind his back he asks the boy with the songbooks on a date. Baekhyun looks like he’s won the lottery when he answers.

He hands Chanyeol one of his precious books on their second date and kisses him before he opens it. The songs are about first love.

Chanyeol keeps those tiny pressed petals for seven years. He has them crushed to dust and sealed inside a pair of rings the day he marries that beautiful boy.

* * *


	26. Seho Day ‘19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #12 - Seho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Circling Stars 'verse

“You… have refueled a car before, right?”

“How hard can it be?”

“You realize that’s not actually an answer.”

Sehun’s curves into the station and pulls up parallel with an empty bowser. He goes to put the car into park, thinks about it for a second and then inches forward another foot. “That should be close enough, right?”

Junmyeon closes his eyes and rubs them. “I can’t believe this is something you’ve never done.”

“Hey,” Sehun hooks an arm around Junmyeon’s seat and glances back, judging the distance. Satisfied, he pulls the break. “That’s what manservants are for.”

Junmyeon unbuckles himself, laughing. “I’ve now lived long enough to hear someone use that word unironicaly. Please turn the engine off so we don’t blow up doing this.”

Sehun cuts the engine. He looks pleased for a moment but then his face falls. “Hey how do we open the little door thingy?”

“The fuel cap?” Junmyeon waves at Sehun’s left leg. “There should be a small lever on your side.”

Sehun undoes his seatbelt and looks around his seat. After a minute he makes a small, embarrassed sound. “I can’t find one.”

“There’s got to be one. Every car has a release switch.”

Sehun is feeling around the steering wheel and dash at this point. “And how many Ferraris have you owned? It’ll be somewhere weird.”

Which is how Junmyeon ends up spending the next ten minutes thumbing through the pristine owner’s manual that he digs out of the glove box. Sehun as it turns out, is right. The stupid thing is in the center console.

Sehun hops out excitedly the moment Junmyeon releases the catch. Junmyeon follows a tad more slowly, catching the appraising looks the luxury car is getting as Sehun hovers in front of the different nozzles, unsure. Junmyeon subtly nudges him towards the unleaded pump handle.

The fuel cap is popped slightly open so Sehun turns back and tugs at it with his free hand. Junmyeon, keenly aware of the cost of damaging this thing, reaches around and settles both his hands over Sehun’s eager ones, guiding. That earns him a glance and Junmyeon tucks in close along Sehun’s side. “Don’t break it.”

Sehun pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and wiggles his fingers underneath Junmyeon’s. “I’ve always been impatient. Are you going to show me how to take it slow?”

There’s a heavy, loaded edge to that question and Junmyeon looks over the tops of his dark sunglasses at Sehun. “If you want me to,” he replies after a moment. Carefully.

Sehun looks down, perfect white teeth pressing dents into his lower lip. He makes a thoughtful sound and Junmyeon knows with a heady, deep warmth to his stomach just what he’s agreed to. Sehun turns the cap under both their hands slowly to the right. His words are gentle.

“I’d like that.”

Junmyeon hooks his chin around Sehun’s bicep as they release the cap and he lets Sehun insert the proper nozzle. The machine makes a clunky groan as Sehun squeezes the trigger far too heavily.

Immediately Junmyeon replaces his hand on Sehun’s. “Not so hard. There’s a sensor on there. It cuts off if you do it too strongly.”

Sehun’s hand is warm and always so soft. Junmyeon balances himself with a touch on Sehun’s waist and applies a gentle squeeze to the trigger under both their hands. Sehun looks down at him as the fuel flows steadily.

“Junmyeon.”

“No.”

“Myeonnie…”

“I’m not kissing you at a fuel bowser.” Junmyeon smiles down at their conjoined hands. “This isn’t sexy.”

“Yes it is,” Sehun rests his cheek on top of Junmyeon’s head. “Anything with you is sexy.”

Junmyeon hears the telltale click that signals the tank is full. He pulls their hands back, stepping away to let Sehun hook the nozzle back into it’s brace. “Tell the clerk inside that it’s for bowser three and I’ll think about it.”

Sehun makes a happy sound and nyooms off inside. Junmyeon resettles his sunglasses properly up on his nose and rests back against the powder blue paintwork, arms crossed. Sehun reappears lightning-fast.

He jogs across the open asphalt and then sidles up the last few paces, placing both hands on Junmyeon’s hips. He looks so shy and eager all at once. Junmyeon smiles at him.

“All done?”

“Yeah,” Sehun breathes. “Thank you for helping me.”

“I always will.” Junmyeon stretches up onto his toes and seals their mouths together. Sehun’s hands tighten happily and he smiles through the whole kiss.

* * *


	27. Puppy Love (SSFW gif)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #13 - Chanbaek

Baekhyun backs up almost the moment he enters the diner, nearly barrelling over Minseok who had been about to walk in behind him.

“No. Nonono.”

Minseok grabs Baekhyun before they both fall over, straightening up. “What the hell is it?”

Baekhyun looks flustered. “Table by the far wall, right? Stripes? White flowers?”

Minseok peers around him through the door. “Tall, broad and criminally handsome? Yeah that’s the one.”

Baekhyun groans. “I can’t do this. I’m changing my mind.”

Minseok closes his spare hand around Baekhyun’s wrist to keep him in place. “You are  _not_  ghosting that poor guy.”

“ _Minseok_ ,” Baekhyun makes a weak sound. “Blind dates aren’t supposed to be that hot. I won’t know what to say.”

Minseok grins, releasing Baekhyun slowly and reaching up to brush his bangs neatly to one side. “You’ll be fine. He’s a vetinary student, right? You’re practically part beagle.”

Baekhyun scowls. “You do realize that means he spends his days saving cute puppies and kittens and-” Baekhyun sneaks a peek around the door. “Oh god his  _hands_.”

Minseok tugs Baekhyun’s hands away from where they’re weakly cupped over his eyes. He’s shaking. Minseok takes pity. “He’s going to love you.”

Those same eyes narrow suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because he told me so.” Minseok turns a startled Baekhyun around and practically shoves him through the doorway. “This is only a blind date on your end. He asked me to set you two up.”

“He-what?”

Minseok waves. “Have fun!”

Baekhyun wobbles over to the table and Minseok feels satisfaction warm him from head to toe as Chanyeol looks up and  _beams_  at Baekhyun.

An arm settles around Minseok’s neck. “You little matchmaker,” Jongdae mutters, nosing behind his ear.

“Someone had to. They’ve been pining over each other at a distance all semester. Disaster gays, the both of them.”

Jongdae peeks around as Baekhyun takes a seat, Chanyeol still looking at him like he’s the literal sun in the sky. “Something tells me they’re going to be just fine from now on.”

“I demand bubble tea in celebration of this victory.” Minseok tugs Jongdae inside so they can watch at a safe distance. Chanyeol is bringing out the baby animal pictures on his phone and Minseok is going to have ammunition to tease Baekhyun with  _forever_  because he’s leaned forward in his chair, melting just as much over the tattoo stretched along Chanyeol’s forearm as the cute snaps.

Jongdae snorts. “You’re going to be staying over at my place more now that Baekhyun is going to be having company in your dorm.”

“A small price to pay to see him happy,” Minseok replies and Jongdae takes a loose swing at his ear. “Hey!”

Jongdae cheerfully buys him the requested bubble tea. Across the room Chanyeol buys Baekhyun the biggest ice cream sundae Minseok has ever seen and two very unsubtle spoons to share. Baekhyun swaps seats to sit next to Chanyeol and Minseok, smiling, thinks today is a very good day indeed.

* * *


	28. Jongin’s pink lovers watch April ‘19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #14- Kaisoo

“One day you’re going to have to tell the world that you have an Instagram account.”

“I don’t have one. I just created a login so I could look at the pictures you post. It’s blank.”

“You help me pick out half of what I post anyway. Why do you need the login?”

Kyungsoo goes an incredibly endearing shade of pink. “Because your friends sometimes post cute pictures of you too. It’s nice to be able to look at them when I’m away.”

“Ah,” Jongin sweeps the phone he’s holding out at arm’s length to show the villa and it’s tide pool. The tall, thin lamps at night give everything a golden tinge. He brings it back to zoom in on his face. “Taemin says hello.”

Kyungsoo’s phone has dipped from where he’s holding it and trying to sort through the pots and pans in the kitchen with his other hand. Jongin gets a long view of a set of tongs before Kyungsoo corrects himself.

“Say hello from me. Please look after him.”

Jongin snorts. “He climbed a street sign today just to take a photo of it upside down.”

There’s a faint bang of bowls. “His hyungs would be so proud I’m sure.” Kyungsoo finally locates the pot he wants. “I liked the watch,” he adds almost offhandedly. Jongin nearly doesn’t catch it. When he does he brightens up and flicks the phone down to showcase it.

“I didn’t think it was going to show up.” He holds his wrist up beside his cheek and pouts. “You should wear yours too. They were my Christmas present after all.”

Kyungsoo puts the phone down on his end to wrestle with a bag of rice. There’s a faint pop of air displacing and then he returns. “You know pink isn’t exactly my color.”

Jongin sticks his bottom lip out a little further and knows Kyungsoo sees it. “It’s not about the color. It’s about the meaning behind it.”

“Yes and watch the internet figure out that meaning in six seconds and post it everywhere.”

Jongin shrugs, full of local beer, sea air and good food. It makes him content and bold. “They will one day anyway.”

Kyungsoo makes a faint humming noise that means he’s indulging Jongin’s playfulness. “By the time I’m grey and we have our little hobby farm they can say what they like.”

Jongin sinks into one of the balcony chairs and listens to the holiday makers splashing in the pool below. “I’ll still love you when you go grey.”

Kyungsoo puts down the phone, clicks on the burner and runs some water into the pot. “I’d hope so.” But the flick of a smile as he picks it back up makes Jongin’s heart giddy.

The sound of the rest of the group tumbling back into the hotel room en masse makes Jongin look up. “I think I need to go save my clothes. Sungwoon already spilled his food on them yesterday.”

Kyungsoo pulls his gaze from from the steam slowly building in the pot and gives a little wave. “Wear repellant. The mosquitos are bad this time of year.”

Jongin smiles. “I am, I promise. Eat well. You always sleep better on a full stomach.” He pauses to watch Kyungsoo pull out some spices from the cupboard to his left. “I miss your cooking.” Jongin knows he sounds wistful. He can’t help it.

“I’m making enough that when you get in while I’m asleep there will be some left over.”

“You know I’ll just wake you anyway.”

The look Kyungsoo aims into the phone is fond. “That’s why I’m leaving enough for two.”

Jongin hears a faint crash from inside the room. “I love you,” he hurries as Kyungsoo laughs from thousand of kilometers away. He heard it too. “Talk tomorrow.”

Kyungsoo purses his lips in the adorable way he only does where Jongin can see and blows a kiss down the line. It gives Jongin just enough strength to face what’s waiting for him inside.

There’s popcorn  _everywhere_.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The watch Jongin is wearing is a pink Casio G-Shock x Baby-G 2018 Lover's Collection Pair Watch LOV-18B-4, sold exclusively in pairs in Japan at Christmas 2018. It was designed "to express the strong bonds between Cupid and Psyche in never-ending love, despite the many hardships facing them. A symbol of lovers, who resist separation regardless of the forces working to keep them apart."


	29. Xiuweet Time fanmeet ‘19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #15- Xiumin (and everyone)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For healing. <3

Minseok goes home alone.

The house -not yet entirely familiar, perhaps in time- is silent. Minseok toes off his shoes, places them neatly to one side of the entranceway and then nudges them until they’re even.

He showers, changes mindlessly into a set of pajamas and then somewhere in the middle of passing from the lounge to the bedroom he just… stops. Without conscious thought Minseok sinks onto the couch and doesn’t move. Doesn’t want to. Can’t make himself. He looks at the black furniture and the white walls, at the figurines and the pillow with the single EXO logo on it. And he cries.

It’s a whole different matter to know something for your whole life, to expect it and anticipate it, than it is to finally have to face it. To count down months and then weeks and then finally just days… It’s real in a way that’s terrifying. And so Minseok sits, paralyzed by scattered thoughts he can’t chase down and the steady tick of the clock. Perhaps if he never moves again, sits still and secret, time won’t ever catch up and find him and he’ll never have to-

His doorbell rings.

Minseok doesn’t look away from the pillow he’s clutching until a hard knock rattles the wood of the door not long after it. Blinking, time seems to restart with a lurch and Minseok stands, confused. It’s nearly midnight. Who…

Chanyeol barrels through the doorway when Minseok opens it, kicking off his shoes and all but scooping a startled Minseok up as he goes. Sehun follows in quick succession and this must be planned, Minseok thinks faintly, as the two strongest members lift him up and propel him down the hallway.

“Hey! What-”

“No, left. Left. Bedroom is that way.” Jongdae’s careful voice follows as Minseok has just enough time to spot the rest of them tumbling through into the narrow space. So many pairs of shoes go flying and oh god, it’s such a  _mess_ -

Baekhyun dashes past as Minseok is still being manhandled, laughing like this is all the funniest thing he’s ever seen. After the tears of tonight’s fanmeet its confusing and carthartic in a way Minseok never really thought he’d feel again so soon. Which is why he doesn’t struggle too hard against the sets of hands gripping him. But still he has to yell out because this is a little absurd.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Group therapy,” Junmyeon calls unhelpfully from somewhere back near the front door. He sounds like he’s carrying something.

Jongin is humming to himself as they round the corner and Minseok is unceremoniously dumped onto the big bed, Chanyeol and Sehun each gleefully throwing themselves onto an arm so as to keep him pinned. A shirt is tossed into the air as Minseok’s wardrobe is raided.

Kyungsoo wanders in, two backpacks in his hands. He keeps one and tosses one to Sehun. Junmyeon follows with a shopping bag full of clothes and now Minseok is totally lost. Jongin pulls something soft out of the bag and dives for the bathroom. Jongdae is still somewhere in the wardrobe.

“Yah! Where did you put my pajamas Minseok? The ones I left here?”

“The-the bottom drawer… why are you all turning my house into a disaster zone?!”

Junmyeon wanders past the dresser, Minseok’s brush in one hand. “They’ll clean it all up again before they leave tomorrow.” His voice is stern and he raises it to the whole room. “Won’t you?”

“Yes dad,” Baekhyun is half into a set of bright red pajamas and he snatches the brush to start pulling the product out of his hair. They mustn’t have had time to clean up after the fanmeet, Minseok realizes. Even so…

“That doesn’t actually—” he tugs at his left arm where Chanyeol’s weight is still keeping him prone. “-explain anything.”

Sehun’s hand is surprisingly soft as it comes over to his cheek from Minseok’s opposite side, tracing the puffiness and dried tear tracks. “It was a group decision.”

Chanyeol catches a towel Jongin tosses at him from the bathroom. “Someone else come sit on him so I can get changed.”

Jongin obliges, now in his own pajamas, but to Minseok’s relief he kind of lays against him instead of holding him down. Not that Minseok is actually realistically going anywhere. His arm regains circulation but he’s no closer to an answer.

Jongdae smoothly swaps with Sehun and to Minseok’s surprise hops under the covers, bundling Minseok in with a little finagling from Jongin to get the bedcovers down and then up again.

“Bless your compulsive butt for having spare toothbrushes,” Baekhyun calls out, followed by a far more muted, “I swear if you put toothpaste down my shirt I’m shaving all your hair off.”

Chanyeol’s laughter drifts out as Junmyeon flicks off the house lights, coming back to finish with the bedroom one last. “You can kick us all out as early as you want,” he offers kindly. “But you’re not going to be alone tonight.”

Jongin scoots below the covers as Baekhyun shrieks and peels out, zooming under the sheets on Jongdae’s other side, trailing the scent of mint. Chanyeol follows at a run and absolutely everyone on the bed automatically curls up to protect their valuables from an errant knee.

Sehun slides in at a more leisurely pace and- Minseok laughs.

“No, no. You are  _not_  all going to fit.”

Kyungsoo clambers up on hands and knees, tumbling across Chanyeol who makes a pained sound as his thigh is corked. “We did the maths on the way over.” He stretches across Jongin to put his glasses on the nightstand and then flops directly on top of him. “We’re tetris-ing it.”

Baekhyun obligingly climbs on top of Chanyeol to also demonstrate and Sehun and Junmyeon squeeze in last. Minseok can barely breathe, cocooned on all sides by arms and legs as the bed creaks dangerously. “This is crazy. You’re all mad.”

“We love you too,” Jongdae murmurs against his shoulder. “And we figured you needed this tonight.”

Junmyeon stretches an arm across everyone on his side to rest against Minseok. “No more tears.”

Baekhyun yawns. “If anyone farts they’re spending the rest of the night on the couch.”

At some point during the evening Sehun accidentally kicks Junmyeon as he rolls over. Jongin snores. Time ticks on.

Minseok sleeps, unafraid of it.


	30. Too Much To Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #16 - Chanbaek

“I don’t say it enough-”

“Yes you do,” Jongdae interjects quickly. But Chanyeol ignores him. Or maybe at this point, with this many rounds of soju under his belt he just doesn’t hear him. So he barrels on.

“But I really, really like you.”

Baekhyun, squashed in between the feature wall and Chanyeol’s body, has kind of slipped down enough that he’s almost level with the table. Thank god he’s an exceptionally floppy drunk, Jongdae thinks. But Baekhyun pushes himself upright upon hearing that to jab a finger into Chanyeol’s shoulder. He misses on the first go.

“I have the best…” he squints to make sure it still is Chanyeol sitting beside him. “Boyfriend ever.”

At which point Chanyeol’s face absolutely crumbles and Jongdae’s palm seems like the easiest thing to cover his own eyes with as Chanyeol slumps back against the high back of the wooden bench they’re all sitting on like he’s been shot.

“You do?”

“Yep,” Baekhyun’s head lolls and he smiles dopily up at one of the overhead lamps, tracking its gentle swing. “He’s great.”

Jongdae is two seconds away from reaching out a hand to smack Chanyeol when Minseok’s own lands on top of his.

“Don’t you dare.”

“He’s going to cry,” Jongdae admonishes softly. “You know he’s about two seconds away from it. Did you guys buy another round while I was in the bathroom?”

Kyungsoo mumbles something from Jongdae’s left but he thinks from the faint glow he’s babbling at Jongin through his phone. Jongdae attempts to count the clear glasses and the various bottles but the food has been long cleared away and there’s too many. Plus his vision keeps trying to fuzz.

Minseok accidentally knocks over one of the empty bottles as he attempts to gather them all neatly into the middle of the table. “I think so?”

Sehun is trying desperately to get his phone out of his bag. It’s taking a considerable amount of time with how much he’s laughing but Chanyeol is working himself up perfectly and Jongdae knows future blackmail material when he sees it.

“Oh,” Chanyeol flops dejectedly down onto the table, pillowing his cheek on his crossed arms to stare up at Baekhyun sadly. Which isn’t a particularly high angle as Baekhyun has kind of slipped back to his previous position as table noodle. “Who is he?”

Sehun yanks his phone from his bag but realizes he’s missed the perfect moment. “Dammit.”

Baekhyun flops an arm around over Chanyeol’s shoulder, pushing their foreheads together. “You, you idiot,” he replies like he’s divulging the biggest secret in the whole universe.

“Yes they’re sharing one brain cell again,” Kyungsoo mutters. “We’ll catch a taxi in half an hour.”

Jongdae watches as Chanyeol’s whole face brightens like the literal sun. “Really?” His eyes never get that big for anyone else. Minseok throws a squashed napkin at them both. It bounces into the neck of Chanyeol’s hoodie to rest there and Jongdae vaguely wonders if it’ll still be there tomorrow. His fingers feel numb and fluffy.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun whispers and it’s somewhere around this point that Jongdae knows they need to be cut off.

“Minseok, Dae, Sehun, K’soo…” Chanyeol props his chin over one forearm and beams up at the rest of them, tone absolutely reverent. “I have a  _boyfriend_.”

Kyungsoo sticks his arm up in the air and waves for the bill. “You two are the worst drunks ever.”

Baekhyn giggles so much he slips under the table.

* * *


	31. Kyungsoo’s culinary qualification

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #17 - Kaisoo

Jongin pulls open the front door to their little apartment because he hears Kyungsoo outside fumbling with his keys. The fact that Jongin has been pacing back and forth in the entranceway for the last twenty minutes ever since he’d received the short, sharp text from Kyungsoo that simply said ‘omw’ is neither here nor there. What matters now is that Kyungsoo is home.

So Jongin yanks on the handle and Kyungsoo almost falls through with the surprise movement, eyes wide, his satchel dropping to the floor. But he catches himself on Jongin’s shoulder, steadies and then flings both arms around Jongin’s neck. A single crumpled piece of paper is still clutched in his hand like he couldn’t quite believe it enough to pocket it the whole ride home.

Stumbling back a step, Jongin scoops Kyungsoo up and hugs him, taking his weight. “Welcome home.” He hesitates; how do you ask—

“I did it,” Kyungsoo breathes against his collar. “I really did it.”

Grinning, Jongin squeezes him as tight as he can, spinning them both in a delighted circle. “I always knew you would.”

 


	32. Kyungsoo buying a gift at Medicom Toy May ‘19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #18 - Kaisoo

“It’s a what?”

“Several whats actually.” Kyungsoo pins the phone between his ear and shoulder, handing over his passport and boarding pass at the check-in counter before the first class lounge. He tugs his mask down to reveal his face for the I.D. check and bows apologetically at the woman in her Korean Air uniform as he answers Jongin. “One each for the kids. And one for you.”

Jongin makes a breathy sound of surprise on the other end of the line; instantly a child himself. “What was it? I heard something about bears but the last arrival announcement cut in.”

Mask back in place, pass handed back and the double doors opened, Kyungsoo thanks the woman and picks up the white bag -now his only hand luggage- before slipping inside and finally away from the fluttering hoard of camera phones following at a distance. “It’s a collectable. They all are.”

There’s a faint pause as Jongin thinks this over. Finally as Kyungsoo is seating himself in a secluded corner of the lounge does he connect the dots.

“You went to Medicom!”

“Yep.” Kyungsoo settles the bag in between his feet and sinks fully back into the chair, tugging his cap down lower over his eyes. It’s cloudy today and takeoff may be through rain. None of that bothers Kyungsoo though because the only important thing is the destination. Home. “There’s an outlet at the international terminal. I’ve passed it several times and have always meant to go in. Today I had time with the flight delay.”

“I’m excited now.”

Kyungsoo can hear the happiness in Jongin’s voice. He tilts his head back against the top of the curved ergonomic chair, closing his eyes. “Hey. You should have been excited to see me  _before_  I bribed you with pretty gifts.”

There’s the faint sound like Jongin has changed rooms. A muffled click of a door. Then Jongin’s voice comes through. Far, far lower and quieter. “You make me excited in every other way.”

Kyungsoo cracks an eye open. People wander past in business suits, legs visible below the snug brim of his cap. “Are you—you’re not.” He knows he sounds incredulous. He drops his own voice another notch. “Nini?”

Jongin’s voice has a faint breathless quality to it as he exhales into Kyungsoo’s ear. “How long is your delay? An hour at least right?”

Kyungsoo shifts, squirming slightly. His denim jacket suddenly feels too hot. “Yeah but I’m. I can’t—I’m in the lounge.”

There’s the unmistakable jingle of a belt buckle and Kyungsoo bites his lip. Jongin laughs, low and aroused. The kind of sound he makes when he has his hand down Kyungsoo’s pants during a movie night as they both pretend they’re paying attention in the dark along with the others. He knows he has Kyungsoo wrapped around his finger and whatever feeble protest Kyungsoo is scrabbling for dies as Jongin moans.

“Fuck. Talk me through it, please? Love your voice. Find one of those nice private bathrooms in there.”

“You’re the worst.” Kyungsoo means it to sound stern. He really does. It comes out horny as fuck.

“I’m just yours,” Jongin corrects. His breath catches.

Kyungsoo stumbles to his feet, scooping up the bag by it’s thin black handles. The bears inside clink knowingly. Smugly.

 


	33. Baekhyun’s YouTube

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #19 - Chanbaek

“Deep breaths. Rest for a moment or you’ll overdo it.”

Baekhyun’s laugh sounds a lot like a wheeze. “Easy for you to say. I’m not built for this kind of thing.”

Chanyeol grins against the back of Baekhyun’s sweaty neck, nuzzling there. His lips move against skin as he talks. “Hey you were the one who wanted to start coming here with me.”

The rapid rise and fall of Baekhyun’s shoulders and chest moves Chanyeol faintly up and down too. “Yeah well,” Baekhyun pants. “I’ve seen the way the people here look at you when you do weights. Guys and girls.”

“Jealousy,” Chanyeol reprimands quietly into Baekhyun’s nape. “Not a good motivator.”

Baekhyun grumbles and leans forward to snag his water bottle. “It motivated me to drag my butt in here?”

“You already come here a few times a week between classes so we can get lunch.” Chanyeol is silently laughing at him, Baekhyun can tell. He chugs a few mouthfuls of water, resisting the urge to spit a tiny bit back over his shoulder at his boyfriend.

“But I have to sit in the corner and watch. This way,” Baekhyun wiggles his hips where he’s sitting snugly back between Chanyeol’s spread legs. “I get the hands-on experience.”

Chanyeol’s hands, still strapped in their support gloves flex around Baekhyun’s waist, tightening. “Are you going to behave if we keep going?”

Wiping the sweat out of his eyes with the back of one hand, Baekhyun peeks over his shoulder. “Do I get a prize if I do?”

Chanyeol resettles his weight and places a hand on the small of Baekhyun’s back, pressing him firmly forward until he’s bent back over the padded stand. “Finish your stretches first and then you’ll actually get to the workout.”

Baekhyun whines into the styrofoam and leather. “Wait, I have to exercise too?”

Chanyeol’s weight is a long line of heat against Baekhyun’s back as he applies steady, careful pressure. “You wanted this.”

“I wanted locker room sex,” Baekhyun mumbles. “That’s what gyms are good for, right?”

Chanyeol’s hips grind against Baekhyun’s ass as he keeps him holding the stretch for a few seconds longer. “That’s depends entirely on how much energy you’re going to have left after this.”

“None,” Baekhyun moans, muscles aching. “Help me up. I think I pulled something,” he adds, wheedling for sympathy. Chanyeol chuckles and gently levers him upright.

“We’re starting on the treadmill.”

 


	34. Junmyeon Day ‘19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #20 - Seho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Circling Stars 'verse

“This is—it’s huge.” Junmyeon does a small spin on the white sand, nearly tripping over his sandals. “And it’s all yours?”

Sehun smiles. “My father’s. But yes one day it’ll be mine.”

“I’m dating Simba,” Junmyeon breathes, causing Sehun to reach out and push his head to one side.

“You and your cartoons, I swear…” He thinks about it all for a second and sniffs, slipping his hand into Junmyeon’s. “I could totally buy Mufasa out anyway.”

Junmyeon’s laugh is loud and joyous; Sehun thinks he should always, always sound that happy. Swinging their combined hands as they walk along the long stretch of private beach, he sneaks a look at the rolex on his other wrist before sliding his hand back into his pocket, checking for the thin objects still sitting there. “It’s midnight back home.”

“Hmm?” Junmyeon, who had been eyeing off the stunning horizon line, turns back to look up at Sehun. The Bahamas has agreed with him these past few days; he’s just starting to go the most endearing shade of pink under all the suntan cream.

Sehun tugs then both to a stop on the shoreline. “It’s your birthday now.”

Junmyeon instinctively looks to his own watch in surprise.

“So it is! Thank you,” he takes both of Sehun’s hands in his own and stretches up, angling his chin for a kiss. The soft sand underfoot shifts and he lands half an inch off the mark, kissing the corner of Sehun’s mouth in a fit of giggles. He composes himself enough to look up over the tops of his sunglasses. “This trip has been the best birthday present ever.”

Sehun squeezes the hands that sit so trustingly in his own. “Now I can tell you that this isn’t the present.”

Junmyeon cocks his head. “Hang on. I thought…”

Sehun lets go and reaches into his pocket, tugging out the small pieces of embossed, hard paper he’d decided on six months prior. He shakes his head and hands them over a little nervously. He hopes he got it right. “This is.”

Junmyeon’s sunglasses almost fall off his face as he turns them over, jumping in shock. The gold and white lettering catches the sunlight as he laughs so much, slinging an arm around Sehun’s waist to steady himself. “Oh my god, are these—are these real?”

“Yep.” Sehun knows he has a dopey, lovesick expression on his face, watching Junmyeon hold the objects up to the blue sky. But then again he’s looked at Junmyeon that way for as long as he can remember. “Two tickets to Disneyland. One for you and one extra so you can drag Baekhyun along to witness your dorkiness in person.”

Junmyeon looks over. “You’re not coming?”

Sehun dips down to kiss Junmyeon properly, forever shocked that he actually gets to do this. “That’s your thing, you and Baekhyun. Always has been. But this holiday is mine.” He slings an arm around Junmyeon’s shoulder and smirks. “You can open your other present later tonight.”

Junmyeon’s eyebrows creep up. “Oh I can, can I?”

“Mmhmm,” Sehun tugs Junmyeon back to walking along. He turns to nuzzle the tip of one ear, dropping his voice conspiratorially. “It comes wrapped in a  _really_  big bow.”

“A Louis Vuitton one?” Junmyeon shoots back, nudging him.

Sehun keeps a straight face, nodding very seriously. “Nothing less.”

Junmyeon snorts. After a few paces he holds up their clasped hands. “Thank you,” he says softly, cheeks plumping up as he smiles. “I love it. All of it. But you do know I’d have loved it just as much if we’d stayed home and could only afford a cake from the corner store, right? I’m not dating your money.”

Sehun turns their hands over, rubbing his thumb along the tendons that lace the back of Junmyeon’s. “I know,” he replies, squeezing once and then letting them swing again. “That’s why I did it.”

Junmyeon goes pinker than ever before so Sehun seizes his advantage and applies pressure to their point of contact, tossing his weight backwards and dragging Junmyeon with him until they both fall into the sand in a soft whump.

Sehun tosses a leg over Junmyeon and hovers over him. There’s streaks of sand on the lenses of his dark glasses so Sehun tugs them carefully off, then his own. His shadow falls across a breathless Junmyeon. Sehun bites his lip invitingly.

“Want to open your other present now?”

Junmyeon tilts his head to the side and makes a show of eyeing what he can see of Sehun’s lower half. “I was promised a bow. So unless you’ve got one tucked in down there…”

Sehun laughs, rolling over so they’re side by side on their backs in the sand. “Fine, fine. I’ll get dressed up later tonight.”

Junmyeon wiggles closer, watching the clear sky. Sehun can feel his eyes getting heavy in the warmth of the afternoon sun. He vaguely registers Junmyeon’s phone ringing and his voice as he answers.

“Hm? No it’s always in the third isle after the tinned fruits. Yes—walk a little bit and look down on the bottom shelves. Found it? Okay, okay good. Do I have to get Chanyeol to draw you a map of the grocery store again…”


	35. Puppy Hybrid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #21 - Chanbaek

The puppy hybrid was… larger than expected.

Baekhyun double checks with the adoption centre but the polite man on the other end of the phone assures him that yes, Chanyeol is the correct age for a new hybrid, no he wouldn’t get any bigger but he does need a lot of careful handling. Baekhyun hangs up slowly, eyes still on where Chanyeol was making his excited rounds of the apartment, touching  _everything_.

“Oh wow! You have so many books! And little things on the shelves in front of the books! I-oh sorry!” Chanyeol catches the Fortnite figurine against his chest as he knocks it off, fumbling to put it back in its place. He cringes a little and looks hesitantly back at Baekhyun who has finally hung up the phone and crossed over to join him. “I didn’t damage it, did I?”

Baekhyun shakes his head, reaching out (and up, oh boy was he tall) to pat Chanyeol’s unruly hair reassuringly. The agency had said touch was important early. “It’ll take more than a bump to break one of those things. Don’t worry,” he adds as Chanyeol seems to relax at the petting, realizing slowly that he isn’t going to be scolded. “How about I show you the rest of the place?”

Chanyeol’s eyes light up and he nods. “There’s so many rooms.”

Baekhyun laughs, unable to help it. “There’s only four. The bedrooms, the bathroom and the lounge. The kitchen is a part of that whole space.”

Chanyeol makes a thoughtful noise, peering around at everything as they walk. “I’m only used to one.”

Ah. Baekhyun nods. The hybrids have confined quarters at the agency before adoption. Baekhyun hasn’t quite realized how much of a change coming here would be, but from the look on Chanyeol’s face he’s thrilled. Baekhyun stops him at the left door at the end of the hallway. “This is your room.” He swings the door open proudly. “I went shopping based on your profile questions at the agency but if there’s anything you don’t like I can always—what’s wrong?”

Chanyeol is looking around the room with its cute blue bed and pile of soft plushie toys like he’s lost something. He turns back to Baekhyun. “By myself?”

Baekhyun puts on a brave face. He’d been warned about this. Separation anxiety after adoption was a very real effect of moving living spaces and Baekhyun had been told during his interview to remain strong. “Yes,” he replies, trying for firm. “With your own bed. There’s even a clock, look.” Baekhyun darts inside, lifting up the small device helpfully. He’d done so much research. “To simulate another heartbeat if you get lonely. I promise I’m only across the hall each night.”

Chanyeol, hovering sadly in the doorway, swivels his head to look at the doorway on the right side of the passageway. “There?”

“Yes,” Baekhyun replaces the clock and turns back. “That’s-” he pauses at the empty space. Chanyeol has bounded across the three steps and flung open the door to dive inside. “-my room.”

Following slowly, Baekhyun finds Chanyeol pawing through the contents of his dresser.

“Something smells nice in here,” Chanyeol says brightly. “Somewhere…”

Baekhyun is about to stutter out something to do with his choices in laundry powder but Chanyeol leaves his drawers half-open and crawls onto Baekhyun’s bed, flopping across his covers and pushing his head into the pillows. “Found it!” he calls, muffled. An eye peeks up. “I like it.” The hybrid wiggles happily. “Can I sleep here?”

Baekhyun’s eyes fly wide. “What? No. No you have your own room. Over there.” He waves an arm behind himself as Chanyeol gives him painfully big eyes. “This one is mine.”

“But,” Chanyeol pushes himself up, confusion making his voice drop an octave as he talks through the cutest pout Baekhyun has ever seen. “Its a big bed. And I get cold at night.”

“I have lots of spare blankets,” Baekhyun wheedles. “I know you’ll be fine. Come on, let’s show you the bathroom.” He holds out a hand and Chanyeol eyes it for a second before sighing and linking their fingers. Baekhyun’s heart does a small squeezy thing in his chest at how large Chanyeol’s hand looks around his own. “You’ll be a brave boy, right?”

Chanyeol’s broad shoulders have hunched slightly and all he does is nod. He’s silent through the rest of Baekhyun’s small tour, only making sad little sounds to say he’s understood where everything is. By the time they’re done Baekhyun is  **so close**  to reneging on his statement from earlier. But he remembers his research. Lots of kind touching. Plenty of reassurance and a firm establishment of the rules from the beginning. He’s got this.

He’s sure Chanyeol is going to be fine. It’s just a big adjustment for a hybrid at first. Things will get easier.

* * *

Baekhyun lasts less than an hour after going to bed.

He tries. He really does. But all he can hear through the two doors he’s kindly left ajar are soft little whimpers as Chanyeol cries.

Baekhyun tosses and turns. He shoves a pillow over his head and grits his teeth until they ache. He tries counting sheep. But in his head he can still see Chanyeol as he left him; freshly washed and hair all fluffy from the hair drier, baby blue pyjamas hugging his long limbs and a heartbroken expression on his face as Baekhyun had backed out and left him in his new room for the night.

He squints at the clock beside the bed. It’s not even midnight. Fuck. He rolls over and tries to remember every lesson he’d learned when he’d decided to adopt a puppy. Every good reason for the owner to remain resolute when their hybrid tried to turn the tables and misbehave or whine or—

Chanyeol sniffs, hiccoughing on a sob. Baekhyun’s resolve cracks. He flings the covers back and stands up, moving for the other room. He knocks gently on the door before sticking his head around. “Chanyeol?”

The whimpering in the dark stops. “Yes?” Chanyeol replies, the one word whispered so as to sound normal. Pretending he hadn’t been upset, Baekhyun realizes. His heart twists. He crosses over to the bed, eyes adjusting to the shape there. Chanyeol is a ball under the covers, completely hidden.

Baekhyun reaches out and feels around until he can find a tuft of hair. He strokes and scratches very gently until Chanyeol’s whole head pops out, looking at him. “Okay,” Baekhyun murmurs. “I’ve changed my mind. You can sleep with me.”

Chanyeol’s cheeks are tear-streaked. His mouth falls open. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun whispers as Chanyeol tosses the covers aside in a huge sweep and almost leaps to his feet. “Apparently I’m a really weak owner and—hey not so fast!”

Chanyeol is tugging Baekhyun along, effortlessly pulling both their weight between rooms. When they get to Baekhyun’s bed Chanyeol scoots straight in, snuggling down until only his eyes are visible above the blankets. They’re red-rimmed and he sniffs once. Baekhyun knows then and there that he’s going to be a  _terrible_  owner because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to kick those eyes out ever again. Or the rest of the six foot puppy attached to them.

“Just for tonight,” Baekhyun lies to them both as he gets into bed beside Chanyeol and is latched onto by miles of long arms and legs that drag him down, arrange him and seem to fit like they instantly belong. Chanyeol buries his face into Baekhyun’s neck and sighs happily. Extracting a hand with some effort, Baekhyun drags his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair until his breathing returns to normal and he loses the hiccups. “This doesn’t mean you get the run of the place.”

“I know,” Chanyeol busies himself snuffling up behind Baekhyun’s ear. “Huh. I found it.”

Baekhyun’s eyes are dropping. He’s warm and Chanyeol feels so soft against him. “Hmm? Found what?”

“The scent I liked. It’s from you.”

Baekhyun yawns, turning his head on the pillow until their foreheads bump. “Is that a good thing?”

Chanyeol squeezes Baekhyun tightly. His voice is shy. “I think so.”

Baekhyun smiles, falling asleep to the sound of Chanyeol’s steady exhales against his cheek.

They convert the spare bedroom into a gaming room within a week.

It takes Chanyeol less than half that time to figure out that Baekhyun’s scent is strongest at his pulse points and his favorite thing very quickly becomes curling around Baekhyun, nosing at his wrists while he plays PlayStation. Baekhyun gives Chanyeol the controller every time he can’t beat a battle royale and brushes his hair while he kicks ass.

Chanyeol sings to Baekhyun on the nights he works late at home; low, soft notes that make Baekhyun drag him to bed so he can fall asleep to the sounds and the warm cocoon of Chanyeol’s arms.

He privately thinks the owners manuals might just be a crock of shit.


	36. Kyungsoo’s enlistment July ‘19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #22 - Kaisoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For healing. <3

The complex is tall and fashionably elegant without being intrusive. It’s subterranean garage contains just about every type of luxury car imaginable, if only one walked the space long enough to count them all. Kyungsoo, upon very first inspection had liked the flat they would eventually choose on one of the uppermost floors. Not the very top, he said, because that was too overambitious and opulence was never his style. But one of the higher floors; high enough that the angle of the windows wouldn’t reveal anything to long-lensed cameras from below. Jongin had agreed because in the end he would have agreed to a three-walled shack if it had Kyungsoo in it. And so they had settled on the little flat with the deep-colored rooms and filled it with the things that made it uniquely their own. Nearly at the top, but not quite. It takes them years.

And in all the time they have lived in this apartment, Jongin has never once taken the stairs. But today he does. Not for the convenience of not having to bump into anyone he knows or even for exercise’s sake. He takes them because he wants to hurt. Floor after floor in the stairwell until his legs are shaking and his muscles are screaming. So he can’t think about anything but the next step up because some kind of pain is better than feeling empty. Until he all but trips over the entranceway and knocks the front door closed behind him, collapsing back against it. His legs buckle and he sinks onto the doormat, lungs bursting.

Jongin did not cry. Not once. Not even when Kyungsoo hugged him last and held on long enough that Junmyeon had to duck out and ask the driver to wait five more minutes. Jongin sent Kyungsoo off with a smile and a kiss to his smooth head that broke something inside him to pull off. And now in the empty apartment he lets it out, huddled against the door on the small bristly mat shaped like a bear paw. Jongin cries like he hasn’t in a year. And this time there’s no soft voice, no warm arms to wrap around him, no sensible reassuring words as Jongin heaves in wet breath after wet breath and tucks his head against his upraised knees.

There is however… a small thing. Jongin almost misses it in the dimness of late morning light folding though the curtains. Settled between his feet sits a tanned envelope, half knocked off the mat because he’d fallen on it in an ungainly heap. Jongin blinks at the item through watery lashes for a long moment before swiping a hand across his eyes and reaching for it. Memories interlock. He remembers Kyungsoo ducking back onto the flat as they were leaving, telling Jongin he’d forgotten to bring the black G-shock that sat counterpoint to Jongin’s pink one. But he’d reappeared empty handed and waved off Jongin’s question with a smile and a reassurance that he must have packed it already.

Jongin’s fingers fumble as he thumbs open the top flap. The white piece of paper inside is small. Little enough for the few sentences in Kyungsoo’s blocky, methodical handwriting to take up all the space.

_Please dry your tears. And I know you’ll forget so drink water before you go to sleep or you’ll dehydrate from crying and give yourself a fever. There’s medicine in the bedside drawers and more in the back of the bathroom cabinet for when you run out._

Hot, fat tears spill over again just reading that. Kyungsoo, always thinking ahead. The envelope still feels weighted so Jongin scrubs at his cheeks and finishes the final line.

_Open the box in the living room. One day at a time._

Jongin tips the envelope upside down and a small brass key falls out. Pushing himself to his feet, Jongin cradles the items like precious things and stumbles into the living room, smacking on overhead lights as he goes. He knows which box Kyungsoo means.

Purchased in Japan at the start of the year, the kumiko chest was something Kyungsoo had ferried home with great care and apart from letting Jongin admire the craftsmanship very briefly, he had put it away and Jongin had all but forgotten it was even around.

Now it sits on the table in the center of the lounge and Jongin crosses over to it. The box is exactly as he remembers; an elegant shippou design on top and the single chamber inside. It’s neat and practical and still as pretty as Jongin remembers. He slots the key into the small lock and tips the lid back.

Inside is a long, perfect line of envelopes. Jongin withdraws the first few. Each one is dated and Jongin counts ahead; thirty-five of them sit in a neat row. Kyungsoo has written Jongin a letter for each day he’ll be in basic training.

Jongin drops onto the couch, dragging the box into his lap. He looks closer at the first envelope. It has today’s date on it.

Pulling the paper out, Jongin sinks back into the cushions.

_I couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone so I have left you these. One to be opened each day whenever you feel you need it most. When I see you at the completion ceremony in five weeks you can criticize my terrible penmanship but these letters helped me organize my thoughts before I left. I’m sorry if they seem jumbled at times. I wrote most of them late at night when you were asleep. They are my thoughts to you._

Jongin carefully keeps each letter to be read on its own specific day and is very proud of himself for not jumping ahead and reading everything that first day. Kyungsoo was right; the notes range from gently reminding him to eat more than packaged ramen to telling him which constellations lined up on the days they were born (because fate is a funny thing), to asking him to please water his cactus plants, to telling him how proud Kyungsoo is of the man Jongin has become. Some are recipes Kyungsoo has perfected over the years that Jongin can cook for himself when he craves them, others are excited ideas for when Jongin is allowed weekend visits once Kyungsoo is given his official posting.

And every message ends the same. _I love you._

Jongin doesn’t cry after that night.


	37. Between raindrops (military)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #23 - Kaisoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For healing. <3

“I bet you have the prettiest girl. You have to. You idols get all the girls.”

Kyungsoo snorts. Tucks the bedcovers in tighter at the corners, precision sharp. His cot is always made faster than the others; they spend too much time talking.

“They’re so sexy when they dance. Skirts smaller than my belt. My older sister used to watch them when she came home from school.”

“Do they meet you backstage at the big awards shows? You’re all together there right?”

“Shut up. He probably can’t tell us anyway. They’re not supposed to date.”

Kyungsoo sweeps the sheet top, removing any last wrinkles. Scoots his kit underneath it and reaches for his boots.

“Yeah but that’s too much pussy not to resist getting caught, right? I mean I know if it was me and they were there all sweaty and-”

He stops when he sees the glare Kyungsoo is shooting at him, chin lowered and eyes sharp.

“Fine. Fine. You’re one of those respectful types.”

Kyungsoo tosses yesterday’s filthy socks at his face. The recruit screams like a small child and the rest of the unit instantly switch to teasing him instead, like a feral pack sensing blood. They’re almost too easy.

Kyungsoo silently laces up his boots and tucks the cuffs of his long cameo pants carefully into his socks. There’s talk of rain this week.

* * *

Kyungsoo listens. He speaks when spoken to and smiles when recognized. He follows instructions to the letter and is kindest to the oldest cook in the barracks who nearly walked into a pole the day he first saw Kyungsoo, too busy staring to notice where he was going. Kyungsoo gets an extra ice cream from him some nights and he comes to learn that it’s great fun to eat it in front of the loudest in his unit when they are at their most obnoxious. They can’t taunt and look sulkingly at the treat at the same time.

Sometimes the second youngest amongst the recruits asks in a quiet voice at night what it’s like to be an idol. Kyungsoo tells him it’s harder than being assigned to the ancient Eekija barracks here. He knows the boy doesn’t believe him. He doesn’t mind.

The eldest try to goad him into talking. Or sometimes singing. Kyungsoo has no interest in pointless conversations but he knows that five weeks will pass quickest with distractions so he bargains for an extra blanket with the promise of a song of their choice. By the end of the first week he’s amassed a collection and sleeps warmer than the rest. He silently gives one to the recruit who still cries some nights when he thinks no one else is awake to hear him.

The first phone call privilege comes at the end of the week of posture and drill training. Kyungsoo hangs back in the kitchen; there’s no point in joining the rest practically falling over each other to get to the phones early. Kyungsoo knows they’ll all have their time. They have nothing  _but_  time here, really. So Kyungsoo helps the staff wash the dirty food trays and finally falls into line at the very end of the queue of recruits as the sun is dipping down. Clouds are rolling in, thick with rain.

Watches might break, clocks may be too fast or slow, phones and their set alarms forgotten in cars or practice rooms. So for a twenty minute window of time to be as precise and perfectly timed as Kyungsoo needs it to be, there was only one thing to agree on. And so they did.

Kyungsoo picks up the receiver and dials just as the sun sets.

The other end of the line clicks open almost immediately, waiting on time. Anticipating. Breathless.

“Jagi?”

There’s not a single soul left in the thin hallway. Kyungsoo’s voice feels almost rusty from disuse. His soft murmur goes no further than the heavy raindrops that start to patter down, shielded from the rest of the world.

“Hi baby.”


	38. Supermarket visit (military)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #24 - Kaisoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For healing. <3  
> R18+

The dingy grocery store is small enough that the visiting unit makes the whole place seem full. Add in the few civilians who seem to frequent the compact shop and it’s a busy little place. Kyungsoo didn’t expect it to be quite this… crowded. The shopping privilege was popular, it seemed. Everyone had jumped at the chance to go.

Tugging a few chosen essentials from the shelves, Kyungsoo cradles them in the crook of one uniformed arm. The baskets had disappeared the moment half the recruits spotted them; they have enough money to want to make this trip worthwhile. Kyungsoo separates himself from the rest, wandering until he finds the quieter isles. Dairy products seem less popular since they’re served milk several times a week already so he hovers there, listening to the rest of his unit loudly raid the confectionery isle.

A carton of strawberry-flavored milk sits at eye level and Kyungsoo nudges in next to a civilian to pick it up. His heart does something painfully twisty as the other person’s hand settles over the top of his own, fingers brushing. Kyungsoo keeps his eyes forward, staring at the cheerful font on the waxy cardboard. The fingers skim against his own, one after the other until the civilian’s far larger hand is nearly covering all his digits. Kyungsoo inhales. The recycled fridge air feels like ice in his lungs.

“Stop.” His whisper sounds weak even to his own ears. This hadn’t been the agreement. It was supposed to be visual only, nothing more. Kyungsoo knows it like he knows his own heart and right now his pulse is ninety miles an hour, just from a simple touch.

Face obscured by a thick black mask and a very low bucket hat, Jongin makes a wounded sound like Kyungsoo has just told him to cut off his own arm. His hand drops away. 

Kyungsoo exhales, fingers tingling. He glances around the isle, eyes scanning from under his beret. Another recruit yells something from two isles over, a tumble of bottles signalling his clumsiness and Kyungsoo dumps his armful, lightning fast. He grabs the one hand that he would know in the darkness of a thousand rooms and yanks them both towards a nearby door marked ‘storage’.

It slams shut behind them and Jongin is immediately a huge, warm presence against Kyungsoo’s front as he presses him back against the door, blocking it from opening. A hand wraps around Kyungsoo’s forearm, bare from where he has his cameos rolled up. Seeking skin. Kyungsoo immediately places his palm against the back of Jongin’s neck as he buries his face above Kyungsoo’s collar.

“It’s been two and a half weeks,” Kyungsoo admonishes quietly. He sounds so fond to his own ears. “I didn’t emigrate.”

Jongin whimpers, nuzzling up behind Kyungsoo’s ear, pushing his nose into his favorite spot for whenever they’re sleeping. His hands roam, tugging and pulling at Kyungsoo’s uniform. Kyungsoo drops his head back against the door.

“Look at me?”

Jongin’s eyes flash up, rearing back. He obediently yanks his mask down and Kyungsoo can’t help it; he pulls Jongin in for a kiss as soon as he’s free. Because perhaps in the end they’ve always been just as weak as each other.

Jongin crowds forward, suffocating Kyungsoo just the way he loves best; all arms and legs and broad shoulders that look best covered in sweat and curved over Kyungsoo, straining to hold both their weight. Kyungsoo licks into Jongin’s mouth, chasing his soft moans.

“Sorry,” Jongin manages between wet kisses, voice low and stricken. “I just… I-” 

And Kyungsoo knows what Jongin wants. He wants cuddles and starlit nights with Kyungsoo settled between his legs like a promise as they watch Pororo in a darkened room, he wants quick kisses stolen in practice rooms and one more morning spent waking up in each other’s arms. But robbed of all that he’ll take this instead. 

A hand slips down to Kyungsoo’s zipper and Jongin drops away, knees folding until he has to look up to keep eye contact. Kyungsoo knocks the hat off and pushes his pink-tinged hair back, intimately aware of the noises of the rest of his unit shopping behind them. But he keeps his hands there, petting, and doesn’t stop Jongin as he tugs him out, hard and stupidly up for anything Kim Jongin ever wants. It’s always been that way, Kyungsoo thinks dizzily as Jongin deep-throats him with a filthy wet suction.

Kyungsoo grabs greedy fistfuls of that perfect hair as he sinks deep, choking out monosyllabic sounds as Jongin blows him, head bobbing perfectly like he was born to take Kyungsoo’s dick. And Kyungsoo has wondered in the years past if that truly was the case because Jongin works him like sin and it’s somehow like coming home. A thousand movie nights under covers and hundreds of promises kept secret. A kiss every morning and a chopstick-proof bathroom door lock for private, wet rendezvous when they needed it the most.

Kyungsoo grits his teeth, grunting and planting his feet wider for leverage to guide Jongin’s mouth down as far as it’ll go. Both of Jongin’s hands fall on top of the standard issue combat boots, gripping in a way that’s too hot too handle. He squeezes the polished leather hard enough that Kyungsoo feels it. Fuck. 

Jongin rears back long enough to pull in a soggy breath, lapping at the saliva coating Kyungsoo’s tip. He gives Kyungsoo a look from on his knees that’s so familiar that he could translate in his sleep before taking Kyungsoo in again, redoubling his efforts because they can fucking  _hear_  the unit commander calling out to regroup. Jongin wants one thing and Kyungsoo will give it.

Tangling his grip lower against the shortest hairs on the back of Jongin’s nape, Kyungsoo dips his knees and fucks Jongin’s mouth in short, sharp thrusts, chasing the desperate heat building in his stomach. Because he’s not going to last. He never could. Kyungsoo pants, strung up on the sight of Jongin’s mouth lax and swollen, moans vibrating up the core of him as he’s used to perfection and that’s where Kyungsoo loses himself, spilling deep and wet down Jongin’s throat as he comes hard and too fucking fast. Jongin takes him so deeply that his nose brushes Kyungsoo’s stomach, swallowing strongly enough that Kyungsoo feels the pulses down to his toes, coaxing rippling aftershocks that threaten to wipe his mind of every marching drill he’s learned. Kyungsoo swears in low, dark pants, syllables choked off as he rides the last few pulses. Finally he slumps back against the door, trembling.

Jongin’s lips are red and sticky as he licks Kyungsoo clean and stands up, kissing him within an inch of his life. Kyungsoo tries to follow his movements, petting and touching what he can reach but Jongin tucks him back in with tender movements and shakes his head as Kyungsoo tries to work his fingers down below his own belt. The unit commander screams Kyungsoo’s designated number.

“Go,” Jongin whispers, nuzzling across Kyungsoo’s cheek.

Kyungsoo shakes his head, gripping hold of the dark long-sleeved shirt Jongin has on as if he can magically anchor him there. Careful, tender fingers pry him loose and Jongin smiles, tugging their hands to his stomach..

“I’ll carry you with me this weekend.”

Kyungsoo gives him a long look, the reaction automatic. “That’s just gross.”

Jongin grins, darting forward to kiss him one last time. “Hey, you put a ring on it.” He drags Kyungsoo’s fingers to the pastel pink watch that wraps around his wrist. And in a flash it’s the two of them again like they’ve always been; teasing, cheeky and just this side of silly.

Kyungsoo feels the weight of the black mirror to it on his own left arm. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” Jongin spins him and reaches for the door, tugging his mask back into place. “Next time make me salute you. It’s hot.”

Kyungsoo stumbles out the door before he can retort, hearing it close behind him. His shopping sits in a jumbled heap on the isle floor. Kyungsoo collects it all carefully with numb, still-tingly fingers. 

By the time he gets to the register a tall civilian in a mask and heavy hat slips out the front door, moving for the small silver scooter that sits parked across the street.


	39. Basic Training Graduation Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #25 - Kaisoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For healing. <3

Jongdae finds him in the living room at three am wandering restlessly back and forth in front of the window. 

“Figured you wouldn’t be sleeping.”

Jongin doesn’t look away from the dark city streets but he rests against Jongdae when he comes to stand beside him. “I couldn’t.”

Chanyeol’s apartment had been chosen with deliberate care; too many cameras would be pointed at the dormitory and any cars departing from it this morning would be followed. Two vans with heavily tinted windows were scheduled to leave from there at eight regardless; empty but effective. Their one and only concession from the company. 

The rest was up to them. It’s a familiar dance but they’re well practised by now. Jongin listens as a police siren wails loudly in the distance. His head feels heavy. “I’m nervous.”

“I thought you’d be happy.” Jongdae hooks an arm around Jongin’s shoulders and gives him a gentle wiggle. “You should be.”

Jongin lets himself flop trustingly in the grip. “That too. I’m just… What if—god there’s so many what ifs.”

Jongdae tips his head, craning to look at Jongin resting on his shoulder. “There’s only one certainty. We all wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t.”

Raising his watch to check the time lights up the temporary tattoo on the back of his hand. Jongin pulls a face. “He’s not going to be expecting these. What if they startle him?”

A set of bare feet pad out into the living room. “You severely underestimate Minseok’s ability to visit and share every fancam of yours on the quiet within the last two weeks,” Baekhyun yawns. He pats Jongin’s waist as he passes. “He’ll have seen you.”

Jongin raises his head and sighs. Jongdae gives him a squeeze. “It’s just the nerves talking. Take a shower. I’ll go get your bag. Where is it?”

“Here,” Chanyeol tosses the gucci-themed duffel out of the hallway, sleepily scratching through his undercut with the other hand. He drags his palm over his face. “I’ll go back to bed for a bit if you want first shower.”

“No you won’t,” Baekhyun loops back and steers him out by the waist. “We need breakfast. Start that. I’ll help.”

Chanyeol scrunches up one side of his face. “You know how to operate my frying pan. _And_  you got more sleep than me on the flight back.”

Baekhyun applies more pressure, pushing him along. “And who has a fansign tomorrow night? You don’t have to get out of the house until Thursday. I’m gonna get way less sleep than you.”

Chanyeol hooks an arm back and grabs Baekhyun around the neck, wrestling his armful of candy pink hair into the kitchen. “Gaming for eight hours straight might as well be resting.”

“Children,” Jongdae calls after them as something clangs. “Behave.”

Jongin hoists his bag onto the arm of the couch and digs through it. They’d all managed to snatch only a handful of hours after departing Tokyo on the red eye flight and it had just seemed easier to stay awake in the end. Jongdae pats him on the arm. 

“Make sure you eat something, even if it’s small. We’ll leave at seven.”

Baekhyun shrieks with laughter. Chanyeol pokes his head out around the partition separating the kitchen from the living room; there’s something suspiciously like flour in his hair. “And you know he’s going to be able to watch the next part, right?”

Jongin frowns. “Of what?”

Junmyeon stumbles in from the direction of the spare room, wrapping a blanket around his pajama-clad shoulders. His hair still has SMtown product in it and he resembles a bunny that’s stuck it’s paw into something electric. ”Us. He’ll have his phone back for Hong Kong.” With a jaw-cracking yawn he pushes past the two of them and makes for the kitchen. “I’m ordering in if you’re both going to just make a mess—Baekhyun put that egg  _down_.”

“I want omurice,” Sehun calls from the bedroom.

* * *

Chanyeol borrows a friend’s four wheel drive, large enough to transport them and unremarkable enough to not be recognised. Jongin spends the entire journey staring through the humidity beading on the tinted window out at the traffic, seeing but not really registering anything. He fiddles aimlessly, picking at the cuff of his long-sleeved shirt; far too hot but entirely necessary. Chanyeol’s borrowed cap rests on his knees.

Junmyeon takes his fidgeting hand and holds it as they arrive.

Minseok’s number lights up in the kakaotalk group chat.

The private car park is little more than a large cordoned-off chunk of asphalt to the back of the Nonsan center lined with caution tape but Chanyeol follows the directions given in the chat and pulls in amid the cameo-printed trucks with a crunching of gravel. He cuts the engine and drums his fingers on the wheel. “What next?”

Junmyeon is reading something on his phone. “They’re still setting up. Once we’re inside the venue we’re not to leave until it’s well and truly over. There’s an event for family after the parade and the official photographer will need Kyungsoo at that point. But we have a…” he waits until the next message loads. “We have a room set aside to watch in. Kyungsoo will meet us there.”

Jongin hoists the cap and tucks it low on his face, smoothing his hand over the top. Jongdae reaches back and doles out disposable masks. To Jongin he also hands over a pair of fingerless gloves. Jongin obediently tugs them on.

A tall, older-looking soldier with a clipboard and a stern look approaches the car. Baekhyun reaches back and squeezes Jongin’s knee. “If we get caught Sehun has volunteered to run out of here nude as a distraction.”

“I—wait. What?”

Jongin takes a deep breath and steps out of the car.

* * *

Kyungsoo marches, easily visible on the outer reaches of his unit. Jongin doesn’t move a muscle for the entire parade, standing and watching the flat screen tv that’s set up, arms tight against his chest, hands curled around his biceps. He shakes his head when Sehun offers him a drink.

“Leave him,” Junmyeon hushes kindly when Sehun tries again later with some food the soldiers have left on a small platter. “Not now.”

Jongin watches the final graduation ceremony, eyes glued to the screen. Baekhyun somewhere behind him is challenging Chanyeol to scissors, rock, paper to see who gets to make the congratulatory Instagram post later. The faint whispers of ‘kai-bai-bo!’ are soothingly repetitive background noise.

The parade ends with a camp-wide salute, the entire stadium ringing with strong voices that they can hear even indoors. Jongdae takes a photo of the screen when the camera passes by Kyungsoo, back straight and smiling politely. The feed switches then to the presenter of the morning’s events and Jongin turns away, uncramping his muscles.

He’s still doing small stretches and swings of his arms when the door to their tiny room opens a short while later with a rush of boots and clipped, military voices. Jongin spins.

Kyungsoo is sun-kissed and ruddier than Jongin remembers sending him off. His face is slightly thinner now and there’s a steadiness to his stature. Jongin loses his breath as everyone around him simultaneously shouts and hushes each other, pulling terribly-executed soldier poses and giggling. Kyungsoo looks like he can’t decide whether to laugh or smack them. But he dives into the welcoming throng and takes his hugs and pats and somewhere in the process loses his beret.

He squeezes out the back of the pack and makes it to Jongin who is still standing at the end of the room almost trembling on the spot. Kyungsoo pulls up short, out of breath from all the roughhousing. But he silently straightens and raises his hand, pinpoint perfect and salutes. His eyes never leave Jongin’s face.

Junmyeon slams the half-forgotten entranceway door shut in the waiting soldier’s faces and Jongin swoops in, kissing Kyungsoo. He smells like boot polish and cheap store-bought deodorant and a thousand other new, unfamiliar things. They drown in each other until Jongin gathers Kyungsoo up, lifting him to his tiptoes and burying his nose in his neck to learn the new smells. And underneath it is the reassuring scent of Kyungsoo himself who squeezes Jongin’s shaking shoulders like he never intends to let go. Ten minute visitation rule be damned.

Chanyeol balances Kyungsoo’s beret back on top of his head but it jostles free and Jongin catches it against his back. He kisses a tender line up Kyungsoo’s neck, cheek and finally pulls back, replacing the hat properly. He has to blink a few times to see through the tears. Clearing his throat helps.

“Hey,” Jongin finally manages.

Kyungsoo’s smile is soft. “Hey.”

Baekhyun leans around and hands over a fistful of scrunched napkins from the table. “Welcome back.”

Kyungsoo takes them and dabs at Jongin’s damp face. “I didn’t emigrate,” he murmurs fondly.

Jongin chokes out a laugh.


	40. EXplOration HK Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #26 - Seho

Sehun sleeps better alone these days. He really does, honestly. He’s been practising and everything. It took a little time and a lot of courage to leave Junmyeon’s bed after so many years there but he knew from a while back that if he didn’t tug that band-aid off steadily that in time something was inevitably coming that would rip it off for him whether he liked it or not.

Hotel rooms while on tour totally don’t count though, Sehun reasons. They’re like a freebie. And he constantly rooms with Junmyeon during travel so if he happens to know that Junmyeon always sleeps on the right side of the bed and Sehun just happens to enjoy the left then they’re just being economical. They don’t need the room’s two beds anyway.

Junmyeon doesn’t look up over his book as Sehun slips in beside him after the first night of the Hong Kong leg of EXplOration. He just hums indulgently and reaches out to pat the new lump of covers now against his side.

Sehun tucks the sheets over his head. He knows Junmyeon is curious; Sehun hasn’t weakened since they shot the Ladder episodes. “It’s warmer here,” he mutters. Junmyeon hums.

“I can leave the light on if that’s what you need.”

“No. I just want to be here.” Sehun curls into a ball. “Just don’t cuddle me. Don’t put your legs over mine or anything.”

There’s a faint thump as Junmyeon closes the book. “You said that last time.”

“I’m practising,” Sehun murmurs, hunching into himself. “Let me do it.”

Junmyeon, effortlessly good at ignoring what Sehun says to find out what he actually means rests a hand on where Sehun’s shoulder is sticking up under the covers. “What for?”

Sehun doesn’t answer. Junmyeon sighs and places the book on the side table, flicking out the lights with the switch there. Sehun’s little cocoon goes even darker from the inside. Then Junmyeon curves around the lump of Sehun-shaped sheets and presses his cheek to the top of it. 

“It’s for when I enlist isn’t it?”

Sehun goes still. “I told you not to cuddle me.”

Jumnyeon tightens his hold. “I’ll miss you too.”

Sehun wiggles, trying to dislodge him. “Shut up. Just let me sleep here.”

Junmyeon laughs, low and warm. “You’ll have to be a little more grown up when I’m gone.”

Something about that cracks Sehun and he feels a hot spike in his throat. “You were always supposed to be the grown up,” he whispers. Junmyeon slings a leg over him.

“We all have to be. Minseok is. Kyungsoo is.”

“They’re hyungs,” Sehun retorts petulantly.

“You will be one day too, to someone coming after you.” Junmyeon reminds him, rational and calm and always reasonable and Sehun snaps, flinging back the covers and dislodging Junmyeon from him in one go. The only thing Sehun has ever been better at Junmyeon in once he started to sprout and lose the coltish proportions of his late teens is brute body size and he uses that now, shoving Junmyeon onto his back to hover over him, hands planted above both his shoulders. Junmyeon blinks up at him serenely and Sehun  _hates_  it. He hates how Junmyeon can look so calm when Sehun is dying inside. Has been this whole year.

“I”m going to  _lose_  you,” he shouts, face scrunched with trying to hold in the tears that have always fallen too easily. He’s being too loud. “I’m going to end the year alone.”

Junmyeon reaches up to circle his smaller hands around both of Sehun’s wrists. He smiles the tiny smile that made Sehun fall in love with him as a smitten twenty-something and applies enough pressure that Sehun crumples, dropping to lie on top of him. For all Sehun’s strength Junmyeon makes him fold so easily. He always has. Sehun smacks a curled fist into the pillow underneath them.

Junmyeon exhales and wraps both arms around him, cradling Sehun gently. “You’re never going to be alone. I’m only one person. You have so many.”

“Don’t be rational at a time like this,” Sehun grumbles. Junmyeon shushes him.

“You know how to find me after basic training. I can meet you on the nights I get off. Do you remember what they’re called?”

“Oe-bak,” Sehun enunciates into Junmyeon’s shoulder with a hiccugh. He sniffs, nuzzling. Junmyeon pets the back of his head.

“Very good. And the longer breaks?”

“Hyuga,” Sehun recites, wiping the tears that have slowly leaked out on Junmyeon’s pyjama top. It makes Junmyeon laugh.

“Exactly. And I promise if you mope like Jongin has been doing then I’m not buying you dinner on those nights. It’s not healthy.”

Sehun keeps his face turned into Junmyeon’s clothes, hidden. He scoops his arms under Junmyeon’s smaller frame and hugs him against his body tightly. “I love you.”

Junmyeon drags his legs up at the knees and wraps them around Sehun’s, making him wiggle again. “I love you too. Now are you staying here for the night?”

Sehun struggles, laughing for the first time. “If you get off me. You’re too clingy.”

“Look who’s talking, little brat.”

Sehun’s head pops up. He looks at Junmyeon; at his kind eyes and plump cheeks and messy hair and Sehun scoots up, kissing Junmyeon’s nose. 

“Yes but I’m your brat.”

Junmyeon makes a cozy sound. Sehun lets him cuddle all night.


	41. Thinking Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soft hours real-time ficlet #27 - Chanbaek

Baekhyun catches Chanyeol curled up in a small desk chair, nose in a book. It’s quite impressive really. He taps him gently on the head with the magazine he’s carrying as he passes by. “You’re going to get cramps if you stay there all night.”

Chanyeol makes a rough, non-committal noise and Baekhyun pauses, backtracking. “Hey,” he hazards slowly. “Look at me?”

Chanyeol keeps his head down. “I’m busy.” He flicks a page. Baekhyun steps forward, uses the rolled-up magazine to push the book down and finally Chanyeol swipes a hand across his eyes. They’re damp.

Baekhyun sighs. “You’ve been reading those things too much lately.”

Chanyeol shakes his head. “They help me compartmentalise.”

Baekhyun plucks the book up and tosses it behind him onto the softer couch nearby, ignoring Chanyeol’s weak protest. Then he slots himself in its place, sitting down fully on Chanyeol’s lap. “This is what happens when we all live together again during concert season,” he says, looping both arms around Chanyeol’s neck. “You’re all doing that thing again.”

Chanyeol clears his throat. It sounds clogged. “What thing?”

“Where you all sync up emotions. It started with Jongin and now Sehun looks like someone ran over his puppy. And you’ve been devouring theology books for the last few months like they’re going out of style.”

Chanyeol flits for a moment, larger hands hovering above Baekhyun’s waist before he settles down, cupping his sides. His fingertips brush hear each other along Baekhyun’s spine. “It helps me process things.”

Baekhyun shifts his weight, settling comfortably. He tightens his forearms against Chanyeol’s shoulders and taps the magazine hanging down his back. “That’s what we’re all here for.”

Chanyeol levels him with a long look. “This is for when you won’t be.”

Baekhyun goes very still. “Ah,”

“Yeah. Ah.” Chanyeol jostles Baekhyun a little, bouncing his legs. “So you don’t have to worry. I’ll be tough by then.”

“Yeollie…” Baekhyun squeezes his thighs to still the restless movement beneath him. “You know you don’t have to bottle everything up. Sorting through emotions is great but you’ve got to feel them too.”

“That’s the problem,” Chanyeol glances away briefly, one of his biggest tells. “I don’t want to.”

Baekhyun melts. “Don’t you dare compartmentalise me. I’ll kick your six foot ass,” he mutters fondly.

Chanyeol’s hands squeeze against Baekhyun’s hips. “I feel too much sometimes and I can’t always turn it off. It’s… overwhelming.”

“I get why. Jongin really was the sad eyes emoji for the last two months,” Baekhyun mutters. “And it’s contagious.”

“He was allowed to feel it,” Chanyeol replies quietly. “Kyungsoo was gone totally for five weeks and he’s happier now that he gets visitation rights every couple of weeks but if I’m honest it’s a little like looking into the future. And I don’t want…” he swallows, dropping his eyes. “I want to avoid that.”

Baekhyun lets the magazine fall from his fingers. He cups Chanyeol’s neck, softly scratching the base of the fade the way Chanyeol likes it best. “If you convince yourself you’re going to feel the same way then you will. You need to think better of yourself than that.” He twists, aiming a frown back at the book. “I thought those little fuckers were supposed to be about positive thinking.”

“They are.” Chanyeol coaxes him back to facing him again. “I guess that’s why I like them.”

“You won’t need them as much as you think when the time comes.” Baekhyun tips forward, resting their foreheads together. “You’re strong already. Stronger than I think you know. And we have lots of time to work on the rest.”

Chanyeol inhales sharply. His broad shoulders rise under Baekhyun’s arms. “I will be strong if…” he swallows his words sheepishly, ears pinking up. Baekhyun rubs one fondly.

“If what?”

“If I know you’re coming back to me on the other side.”

Baekhyun tilts his chin up. “Of course I will.” His breath ghosts over Chanyeol’s lips, tantalisingly close. “Who else will I take to Hannam-dong UN Village hill to watch the moon with? I need more photos to share again.”

Chanyeol little laugh feels like clouds. “We both never should have posted those.”

“Relaxin’, chillin’…” Baekhyun whispers playfully, dipping in to kiss Chanyeol. He takes a fistful of that perfect silver hair, tugging and kneading until Chanyeol wedges his hands underneath Baekhyun’s thighs and stands with a low growl, lifting them both up. He walks blindly up the hallway, Baekhyun’s legs hooked around his waist for balance.

Junmyeon throws a pen at them when they bump into a wall on their way past the common rooms without looking up from the drama he’s watching. 

Jongin, wandering from the other direction on a video call covers the phone screen as he passes, airily telling Kyungsoo he doesn’t need to see them being little shits again. Baekhyun can hear his hyung’s low, muffled laughter all the way to Chanyeol’s room.

The book gets left somewhere on the couch cushions.


End file.
